"What would Uncle Reed say to you, if he were alive?" was my

scarcely voluntary demand. I say scarcely voluntary, for it seemed

as if my tongue pronounced words without my will consenting to their

utterance: something spoke out of me over which I had no control.

"What?" said Mrs. Reed under her breath: her usually cold composed

grey eye became troubled with a look like fear; she took her hand

from my arm, and gazed at me as if she really did not know whether I

were child or fiend. I was now in for it.

"My Uncle Reed is in heaven, and can see all you do and think; and

so can papa and mama: they know how you shut me up all day long,

and how you wish me dead."

Mrs. Reed soon rallied her spirits: she shook me most soundly, she

boxed both my ears, and then left me without a word. Bessie

supplied the hiatus by a homily of an hour's length, in which she

proved beyond a doubt that I was the most wicked and abandoned child

ever reared under a roof. I half believed her; for I felt indeed

only bad feelings surging in my breast.

November, December, and half of January passed away. Christmas and

the New Year had been celebrated at Gateshead with the usual festive

cheer; presents had been interchanged, dinners and evening parties

given. From every enjoyment I was, of course, excluded: my share

of the gaiety consisted in witnessing the daily apparelling of Eliza

and Georgiana, and seeing them descend to the drawing-room, dressed

out in thin muslin frocks and scarlet sashes, with hair elaborately

ringletted; and afterwards, in listening to the sound of the piano

or the harp played below, to the passing to and fro of the butler

and footman, to the jingling of glass and china as refreshments were

handed, to the broken hum of conversation as the drawing-room door

opened and closed. When tired of this occupation, I would retire

from the stairhead to the solitary and silent nursery: there,

though somewhat sad, I was not miserable. To speak truth, I had not

the least wish to go into company, for in company I was very rarely

noticed; and if Bessie had but been kind and companionable, I should

have deemed it a treat to spend the evenings quietly with her,

instead of passing them under the formidable eye of Mrs. Reed, in a

room full of ladies and gentlemen. But Bessie, as soon as she had

dressed her young ladies, used to take herself off to the lively

regions of the kitchen and housekeeper's room, generally bearing the

candle along with her. I then sat with my doll on my knee till the

fire got low, glancing round occasionally to make sure that nothing

worse than myself haunted the shadowy room; and when the embers sank

to a dull red, I undressed hastily, tugging at knots and strings as

I best might, and sought shelter from cold and darkness in my crib.

To this crib I always took my doll; human beings must love

something, and, in the dearth of worthier objects of affection, I

contrived to find a pleasure in loving and cherishing a faded graven

image, shabby as a miniature scarecrow. It puzzles me now to

remember with what absurd sincerity I doated on this little toy,

half fancying it alive and capable of sensation. I could not sleep

unless it was folded in my night-gown; and when it lay there safe

and warm, I was comparatively happy, believing it to be happy

likewise.




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