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and the Rector could not agree （the Rector's fault； of course）； and he was
about to remove to another place。
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No … besides my hope in God； my only consolation was in thinking
that； though he know it not； I was more worthy of his love than Rosalie
Murray； charming and engaging as she was； for I could appreciate his
excellence； which she could not： I would devote my life to the
promotion of his happiness； she would destroy his happiness for the
momentary gratification of her own vanity。 'Oh； if he could but know the
difference！' I would earnestly exclaim。 'But no！ I would not have him
see my heart： yet； if he could but know her hollowness； her worthless；
heartless frivolity； he would then be safe； and I should be … ALMOST
happy； though I might never see him more！'
I fear； by this time； the reader is well nigh disgusted with the folly and
weakness I have so freely laid before him。 I never disclosed it then； and
would not have done so had my own sister or my mother been with me in
the house。 I was a close and resolute dissembler … in this one case at least。
My prayers； my tears； my wishes； fears； and lamentations； were witnessed
by myself and heaven alone。
When we are harassed by sorrows or anxieties； or long oppressed by
any powerful feelings which we must keep to ourselves； for which we can
obtain and seek no sympathy from any living creature； and which yet we
cannot； or will not wholly crush； we often naturally seek relief in poetry …
and often find it； too … whether in the effusions of others； which seem to
harmonize with our existing case； or in our own attempts to give utterance
to those thoughts and feelings in strains less musical； perchance； but more
appropriate； and therefore more penetrating and sympathetic； and； for the
time； more soothing； or more powerful to rouse and to unburden the
oppressed and swollen heart。 Before this time； at Wellwood House and
here； when suffering from home…sick melancholy； I had sought relief twice
or thrice at this secret source of consolation； and now I flew to it again；
with greater avidity than ever； because I seemed to need it more。 I still
preserve those relics of past sufferings and experience； like pillars of
witness set up in travelling through the vale of life； to mark particular
occurrences。 The footsteps are obliterated now； the face of the country
may be changed； but the pillar is still there； to remind me how all things
were when it was reared。 Lest the reader should be curious to see any of
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these effusions； I will favour him with one short specimen： cold and
languid as the lines may seem； it was almost a passion of grief to which
they owed their being：…
Oh； they have robbed me of the hope My spirit held so dear； They
will not let me hear that voice My soul delights to hear。
They will not let me see that face I so delight to see； And they have
taken all thy smiles； And all thy love from me。
Well； let them seize on all they can； … One treasure still is mine； … A
heart that loves to think on thee； And feels the worth of thine。
Yes； at least； they could not deprive me of that： I could think of him
day and night； and I could feel that he was worthy to be thought of。
Nobody knew him as I did； nobody could appreciate him as I did； nobody
could love him as I … could； if I might： but there was the evil。 What
business had I to think so much of one that never thought of me？ Was it
not foolish？ was it not wrong？ Yet； if I found such deep delight in thinking
of him； and if I kept those thoughts to myself； and troubled no one else
with them； where was the harm of it？ I would ask myself。 And such
reasoning prevented me from making any sufficient effort to shake off my
fetters。
But； if those thoughts brought delight； it was a painful； troubled
pleasure； too near akin to anguish； and one that did me more injury than I
was aware of。 It was an indulgence that a person of more wisdom or
more experience would doubtless have denied herself。 And yet； how
dreary to turn my eyes from the contemplation of that bright object and
force them to dwell on the dull； grey； desolate prospect around： the
joyless； hopeless； solitary path that lay before me。 It was wrong to be so
joyless； so desponding； I should have made God my friend； and to do His
will the pleasure and the business of my life； but faith was weak； and
passion was too strong。
In this time of trouble I had two other causes of affliction。 The first
may seem a trifle； but it cost me many a tear： Snap； my little dumb；
rough…visaged； but bright…eyed； warm…hearted companion； the only thing I
had to love me； was taken away； and delivered over to the tender mercies
of the village rat…catcher； a man notorious for his brutal treatment of his
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canine slaves。 The other was serious enough； my letters from home gave
intimation that my father's health was worse。 No boding fears were
expressed； but I was grown timid and despondent； and could not help
fearing that some dreadful calamity awaited us there。 I seemed to see the
black clouds gathering round my native hills； and to hear the angry
muttering of a storm that was about to burst； and desolate our hearth。
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CHAPTER XVIII … MIRTH AND
MOURNING
THE 1st of June arrived at last： and Rosalie Murray was transmuted
into Lady Ashby。 Most splendidly beautiful she looked in her bridal
costume。 Upon her return from church； after the ceremony； she came
flying into the schoolroom； flushed with excitement； and laughing； half in
mirth； and half in reckless desperation； as it seemed to me。
'Now； Miss Grey； I'm Lady Ashby！' she exclaimed。 'It's done； my fate
is sealed： there's no drawing back now。 I'm come to receive your
congratulations and bid you good…by； and then I'm off for Paris； Rome；
Naples； Switzerland； London … oh； dear！ what a deal I shall see and hear
before I come back again。 But don't forget me： I shan't forget you；
though I've been a naughty girl。 Come； why don't you congratulate me？'
'I cannot congratulate you；' I replied； 'till I know whether this change is
really for the better： but I sincerely hope it is； and I wish you true
happiness and the best of blessings。'
'Well； good…by； the carriage is waiting； and they're calling me。'
She gave me a hasty kiss； and was hurrying away； but； suddenly
returning； embraced me with more affection than I thought her capable of
evincing； and departed with tears in her eyes。 Poor girl！ I really loved
her then； and forgave her from my heart all the injury she had done me …
and others also： she had not half known it； I was sure； and I prayed God
to pardon her too。
During the remainder of that day of festal sadness； I was left to my
own devices。 Being too much unhinged for any steady occupation； I
wandered about with a book in my hand for several hours； more thinking
than reading； for I had many things to think about。 In the evening； I
made use of my liberty to go and see my old friend Nancy once again； to
apologize for my long absence （which must have seemed so neglectful and
unkind） by telling her how busy I had been； and to talk； or read； or work
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for her； whichever might be most acceptable； and also； of course； to tell
her the news