The Clever Woman of the Family

"Yes, my dear, it looks very well; and now you will oblige me by not

wearing that black lace thing, that looks fit for your grandmother."

"Poor Lovedy Kelland's aunt made it, mother, and it was very expensive,

and wouldn't sell."

"No wonder, I am sure, and it was very kind in you to take it off their

hands; but now it is paid for, it can't make much difference whether you

disfigure yourself with it or not."

"Oh yes, dear mother, I'll bind my hair when you bid me do it and really

these buds do credit to the makers. I wonder whether they cost them

as dear in health as lace does," she added, taking off the flowers and

examining them with a grave sad look.

"I chose white roses," proceeded the well-pleased mother, "because I

thought they would suit either of the silks you have now, though I own I

should like to see you in another white muslin."

"I have done with white muslin," said Rachel, rousing from her reverie.

"It is an affectation of girlish simplicity not becoming at our age."

"Oh Rachel!" thought Grace in despair; but to her great relief in at

that moment filed the five maids, the coachman, and butler, and the

mother began to read prayers.

Breakfast over, Rachel gathered up her various gifts, and betook herself

to a room on the ground floor with all the appliances of an ancient

schoolroom. Rather dreamily she took out a number of copy-books, and

began to write copies in them in large text hand.

"And this is all I am doing for my fellow-creatures," she muttered half

aloud. "One class of half-grown lads, and those grudged to me! Here is

the world around one mass of misery and evil! Not a paper do I take up

but I see something about wretchedness and crime, and here I sit with

health, strength, and knowledge, and able to do nothing, nothing--at the

risk of breaking my mother's heart! I have pottered about cottages and

taught at schools in the dilettante way of the young lady who thinks it

her duty to be charitable; and I am told that it is my duty, and that

I may be satisfied. Satisfied, when I see children cramped in soul,

destroyed in body, that fine ladies may wear lace trimmings! Satisfied

with the blight of the most promising buds! Satisfied, when I know that

every alley and lane of town or country reeks with vice and corruption,

and that there is one cry for workers with brains and with purses!

And here am I, able and willing, only longing to task myself to the

uttermost, yet tethered down to the merest mockery of usefulness by

conventionalities. I am a young lady forsooth!--I must not be out late,

I must not put forth my views; I must not choose my acquaintance, I must

be a mere helpless, useless being, growing old in a ridiculous fiction

of prolonged childhood, affecting those graces of so-called sweet

seventeen that I never had--because, because why? Is it for any better

reason than because no mother can bear to believe her daughter no longer

on the lists for matrimony? Our dear mother does not tell herself that

this is the reason, but she is unconsciously actuated by it. And I have

hitherto given way to her wish. I mean to give way still in a measure;

but I am five and twenty, and I will no longer be withheld from some

path of usefulness! I will judge for myself, and when my mission has

declared itself, I will not be withheld from it by any scruple that does

not approve itself to my reason and conscience. If it be only a domestic

mission--say the care of Fanny, poor dear helpless Fanny, I would that

I knew she was safe,--I would not despise it, I would throw myself into

it, and regard the training her and forming her boys as a most sacred

office. It would not be too homely for me. But I had far rather become

the founder of some establishment that might relieve women from the

oppressive task-work thrown on them in all their branches of labour. Oh,

what a worthy ambition!"