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    Agnes Grey
    Agnes Grey
    Agnes Grey
    Ebook250 pages

    Agnes Grey

    By Anne Brontë

    3.5/5

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    As Agnes navigates her professional struggles, she also grapples with matters of the heart. Her encounters with Mr. Weston, a curate, and Mr. Hatfield, a wealthy suitor, bring both joy and heartache as she navigates the complexities of love, social class, and personal integrity. Throughout the novel, "Agnes Grey" explores themes of class distinction, gender roles, and the plight of women in Victorian society. Anne Bronte offers a compassionate critique of the treatment of governesses and the limited opportunities available to women of the time. Through Agnes's experiences, the novel examines the importance of individuality, moral integrity, and the pursuit of personal happiness against societal expectations.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherInteractive Media
    Release dateDec 15, 2013
    ISBN9781909904958
    Author

    Anne Brontë

    Anne Brontë (1820-1849) was an English novelist and poet and the youngest of a trio of legendary writers who became known as "the Brontë sisters." Each of the three siblings managed to create novels that would become classics of English literature: Charlotte's "Jane Eyre," Emily's "Wuthering Heights" and Anne's "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall." The youngest of six children born to clergyman Patrick Brontë and his wife Maria, Anne was home-schooled after two of her older sisters died of tuberculosis which they were believed to have acquired while attending the Clergy Daughter's School. The four surviving siblings, Branwell, Emily, Anne and Charlotte, created an imaginary world called "Glass Town," and would each contribute poems, stories and geographical details of this mythical place to help them escape the difficulties and isolation of their childhood and this early, escapist writing would plant the seeds for their later literary success. At the time, the idea of publishing a female author was frowned upon, thus the sisters created a pseudonymous trio of brothers - Currer (Charlotte), Ellis (Emily) and Acton (Anne) Bell - in order to get their books into print. Anne actually completed two full novels during her brief career: "Agnes Grey" and "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall," but the enjoyment of their literary success was short-lived. The family suffered the deaths of Branwell, Emily and Anne in just a few short months in late 1848/early 1949 (the latter two of tuberculosis) and Charlotte herself, while struggling through her first, difficult pregnancy, died in 1854 at the age of thirty-eight. Few families in history have produced as many literary powerhouses as the Brontë sisters and their works have been adapted numerous times for the stage and screen.

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    Reviews for Agnes Grey

    3.5/5

    1,116 ratings76 reviews

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    • 5/5
      Anne is very under appreciated.I like her more realistic style.The book is told in the first person by Agnes. As a governess Agnes is given no real authority to punish her charges. So of course they feel free to disrespect her.
    • 4/5
      (Original Review, 1981-02-06)I read "Agnes Grey" after a visit to the Mosteiros dos Jerónimos, supposing I ought to try the lesser known sister after reading so much of Charlotte's work and of course “Wuthering Heights.” What a wonderful surprise. Anne had me at "...she would rather live in a cottage with Richard Grey than in a palace with any other man in the world." It's a beautiful novel and undeservedly overlooked. The tone is on the surface much less dark, but Anne pulls no punches about women's oppression and the appalling behaviour of the 'noble' families she had the misfortune to encounter in her time as a governess. The dialogue reminds me of Jane Austen in places, exchanges that are gently witty and scathing. Mr. Weston is something of an unassuming romantic interest, but coming to the novel as an adult I rather more appreciate Anne's quietly decent men than the Byronic sociopaths her sisters were obsessed with. For me the novel is more about women. Agnes' relationship with her mother is genuinely touching, imbued with Anne's longing for her own. The final meeting between Agnes and Rosalie juxtaposing their characters and fates, now firmly fixed, is haunting stuff. Anne's heroines are not defined by the men they love, but by their own convictions and resources - how refreshing even in 1981!
    • 4/5
      # 13 of 100 Classics Challenge

      Agnes Grey🍒🍒🍒🍒
      By Anne Bronte
      1847

      Partially influenced by her personal experience as a governess, Anne Bronte takes us into her world of the humble, mistreated and overworked governesses, with horribly undisciplined mean children of the rich.She falls for an impossible man, but eventually finds true love. And happiness.A great classic. My first Anne Bronte and not my last.
    • 4/5
      Anne Bronte delivers a finely detailed account of the depressing trials of a untrained and timid young governess and her ruthless charges.She unfortunately gains little in self confidence as she moves with her mother to teach in their own school at the seaside.Mr. Weston, her concealed love interest, acts in his own secretive manner, as artful as the manipulations Agnes Grey despises in Miss Matilda,yet Agnes does not fault him for his many months of needless silence.His sterling act in her direction is the purchase of the dog, Snap. There is no reason given why Agnes did not purchase and so save the dog from cruelty herself.
    • 3/5
      I looked at several reviews of Agnes Grey before reading it, but they were so varied in opinion I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t find the heroine as insipid as many readers did; although she mostly failed to change the children in her charge she never failed to try to the best of her abilities, including physical means; and remaining polite and ‘in her place’ didn’t mean she lacked strong feelings.Where I felt the novel lacked power was in its romance. The only thing holding the two apart was their inability to meet often. There was nothing like Pride and Prejudice’s Elizabeth and Darcy having to accept their own faults and evolve into better people - Agnes and Mr Weston are both essentially perfect and only require a little leisure time to get to know each other so that doubts about each other’s feelings can be overcome.
    • 3/5
      I am glad I read this. It wasn't terrible but compared to "Tenant" I would never believe it was written by the same woman. It's just rather dull. Agnes is self-righteous and to our modern eyes rather a wimp. Yes her charges are horrible little monsters and a reader can't judge her by our modern standards but "Tenant" has issues which are no longer relevant in it and it's still a great book. So of some interest but flawed. The fact that it has never been filmed probably about sums it up.
    • 3/5
      There are half a dozen recordings of 'Agnes Grey' and I sampled all prior to purchase; the American reader just wasn't going to sound right - but neither did any of others particularly, ranging from old maid, albeit Agnes does come across as such, to just too conventionally middle class, even though she is. So I plumbed for the most popular. A reading is necessarily a performance and thoroughly inhibits, I suspect, any possible further reading of the text, if like me you've not read the book initially. Thus inevitably Agnes comes across in this performance as priggish and judgmental, the younger daughter of a clergyman, who becomes a governesses as she feels that this would enhance her experience of life and that she'd greatly enjoy putting her skills to a practical end. Alas the world that she enters - the gentry, are dissolute, often idle, rude and snobbish and treat Agnes little better than a servant - which is what she is.She holds to her principles largely based on Christian values and her own class prejudices and ultimately her virtue and long suffering is rewarded. 'Tis but a short tale of love and toil and illness, unhappiness and great meanness of spirit, though I did enjoy some of the arch sentence construction, and a genuinely informative novel of country life in mid 19th Century England. By the end of the book I'd accommodated to Virginia Leishman's reading style, but wondered how a younger less knowing narrator might have tipped the story at different and more sympathetic angle.
    • 3/5
      A largely biographical novel, telling the trials and tribulations of a daughter of a clergyman who resorts to being a governess in order to reduce her burden on the family finances. Unfortunately, Agnes is allowed too little authority over her spoilt charges and has too little experience, character and authority in herself to be able to exert what little authority she does have over the brats. And they are uniformly brats who are neglected and over indulged by their parents. It is also a cycle that is difficult to break, with Rosalie Murray looking set to treat her child in the same manner as she was, thus perpetuating the cycle of bad behaviour. Agnes herself is not someone I'd want to spend a great deal of time with. Too innocent to know much of the ways of the world, she is entirely out of her depth for most of the novel. She is also too insipid to do much about it. She always takes the back seat and does little to develop her own character. I accept she's in a difficult situation, the governess sitting uncomfortably between the servants and the family, being a part of neither circle. It leads to a isolating position, despite Agnes' claim (about which she then does nothing) that she is the equal of the ladies and their friends that she has been employed to educate. The other topic this book covers is courtship & marriage. There are two very different end results, and, one suspects, one is supposed to take the message that a good marriage is deserved by the more godly (preachy and pious) person. I, however, take from it that I'm amazed any marriage was ever good, in that they seem to be based on a mere handful of meetings and those barely seem to scratch the surface of the kind of exploratory conversations you'd have on a modern date. Rosalie discovers her husband is not at all what she imagined he would be, and has no skills to manage him. I occasionally complain my husband is not at all romantic, but I did know that before I married him. Not the longest book, and not a difficult read. But it has that 19th century preaching tone about it - you're supposed to take a lesson from it. And so it's unlikely to be one I'll come back to.
    • 4/5
      The book reads much like her sister's books although the subject manner may be less universal. It deals with the British class system and how it leaves many, particularly governesses in an isolated condition.
    • 5/5
      I am a big fan of the Brontes. While Charlotte's Jane Eyre and Emily's Wuthering Heights are deservedly all time classics, Anne's two novels are less well known and comparatively neglected; and Agnes Grey is probably less known than Anne's other novel The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. Agnes Grey is comparatively short and is a semi-autobiographical novel where Anne recounts the eponymous young lady's experiences as a governess to the children of wealthy families. When her father's business ventures fall apart after the sinking of a ship of his merchant business partner, young Agnes goes to work as a governess to earn the family some money, despite discouragement from her family. Her experiences are actually quite hilarious, dealing with spoiled and delinquent children and their oblivious parents who refuse to see any wrong in their offspring, particularly in the case of the Bloomfields. Later she looks after the older daughters of the Murrays, who are also a trial, being self-centred and needy, but with whom she is able eventually to establish a modus vivendi. She also falls in love with a vicar in the Murrays' local village, Mr Weston. This is a lovely and very satisfying novel, in some ways ahead of its time in dealing with "feral" children, as is Wildfell Hall in dealing with domestic abuse. A great read.
    • 3/5
      Anne seems to be the forgotten Bronte, and while I liked this book as a change of pace from the outright melodramas and romances that Charlotte and Emily wrote, it really wasn't up to snuff with my expectations, I guess.
    • 5/5
      a realistic & plain love story. The main character is normal and there isn't anything extravagant about the whole thing. Which makes this book a very nice read, it's a nice change to all the drama filled romance novels you find today.
      It was charming & wonderful.
    • 3/5
      This was an enjoyable book to read, but I found the plot to be predictable and the characters seemed stereotyped and flat. The plot is a familiar one. A pastor's family falls into financial troubles and one of the daughters has to go into service as a governess. She works for 2 different families - both of them shallow with spoiled children and of course, they treat Agnes like dirt. She keeps her chin up and endures and since this is a Victorian romance, you can imagine the final outcome. I usually love the Victorian marriage plot stories, but I found Agnes to be too much of a goody two shoes. Unlike some other memorable characters, like Jane Eyre, she lacks spunk and let's people walk all over her. Just add 3 miracles and she could be St. Agnes Grey. Still enjoyable, but not a classic that will stay with me.
    • 3/5
      Fodder for all romance novelists who followed the Brontes, how many ways can you tell the story of a mousy, governess beset on all sides by poverty, the winds of fate and wicked souls who try, if not her virtue, at least her patience? Yet she victoriously outlasts them all through her basic goodness to win the heart and hand of the right man in the end. Anne Bronte's heroine may be a bit boring, but her wonderfully descriptive passages lift Agnes Grey above the ordinary. Her intense attention to detail and personality are extremely well done, particularly regarding some of the nasty little psychopathic charges Miss Grey had to take in hand and their equally repulsive parents.
    • 3/5
      Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte; (2 1/2*)A clergyman's family falls into difficult financial times and one of the daughters must go into service as a governess. How many times and how many ways have we read this one? To give Bronte her due, she was young at the time she wrote this and she did have some experience of that which she wrote. I have to admit part of the reason I read this is that I was quite curious as to how this sister held up against her sisters and the outcome was 'rather poorly'. But then who can stand up against Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights? I found Agnes Grey rather predictable and somewhat of a snooze. Anne Bronte does bring some nice bits of writing to the table throughout her novel but I doubt I would have completed the read had it not been that I was taking part in a tutored & group read. I did love the very last part of the novel so the author did score some marks.
    • 3/5
      Interesting social commentary, dull to read in some sections. apparently somewhat autobiographical.
    • 3/5
      It's one of the Brontes so, of course, there's a level of wonderfulness that's a given. The romance in this story feels like an add-on but the exposure of the hypocrisy of the "upper" classes and the rudeness towards the "lower" classes is wonderful. Jane Eyre is still my favorite but I'm glad I've now read Anne.
    • 4/5
      Anne Bronte's writings bring like in the 1800s to life on the page. Her short descriptive chapters set a fast pace to her vivid writing. This is a small treasure of a novel with semi-biographical experiences is often ignored alongside her sisters more famous novels, Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights but it is not forgotten.
    • 3/5
      Plain and rather predictable, but nice.
    • 3/5
      Slow, sometimes overly pious and reflective. Bronte does have plenty to say about wealthy people of the time.
    • 4/5
      Of all the reviews on Goodreads, reviews of the Brontes puzzle me most. Wuthering Heights is meant to be a romance, relaxation reading etc... And Anne Bronte, who is now certainly my favorite sister, is always a distant third...
      This novel isn't as good as The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, sure. But it's more lovely, full of gentle irony, moral correction, and the promise that somewhere there is at least one person, who is not a member of your family, who is not a complete dip-shit. Like Austen, but more enraged, which is understandable given the facts of the story.
      I've read people who complain that this novel 'tells' too much rather than 'showing,' but given that it's written in the first person, I hardly see how it could 'show' without being insanely obtuse; imagine someone sitting down at a bar to regale you with a tale, except he treats it like a Henry James novel. No thanks. I've read that this is too moralistic. I wonder if the people who write this are the same ones who complain that other novels don't have any sympathetic characters? Come on people! Can you imagine a novel full of sympathetic characters, and then have those sympathetic characters not be pissed off that other people are terrible? Ugh. Insufferable.
    • 1/5
      Agnes is an idiot. And I only made it through about 60% of this very boring book.
    • 4/5
      I had to read an ANNE Bronte book after the movie 'Devotion' only describes Charlotte and Emily as geniuses. Why not Anne, too? This could not stand! I had been meaning to read this one for a while anyway. If I were deprived of Charlotte's and Emily's writing, Anne's writing would be all the more appreciated. The story or writing here might not be on the level of Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights, but I will take what I can get of the Brontes! I know I couldn't write like Anne anyway! Anne seems to overuse the comma here, which is the most irritating this book could be for me. I love the story of Agnes Grey and her perseverance with her job as governess to various children and teens and her perseverance with the disappointments of life overall. The Brontes sure had a handle on the story of the governess. I especially love the appreciation Agnes has for the ocean and her walks (my favorite part!), as I know Anne herself died at the ocean. Now I know how much Anne herself appreciated the ocean and that gives me comfort and reason enough to read the book alone.
    • 3/5
      1001 list book #158.Sweet, short, sappy, romantic, yet somehow satisfying. This would actually be a great read for middle/high schoolers--especially for those kids who are young but read at an advanced level. The 18th century language is not simple to read (not hard either, just different), social history is important, and this book is clean and gentle.Read on Serial Reader.
    • 4/5
      Not nearly as remarkable as her sisters' novels, Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, but still Agnes Grey was a good read. I liked that it was quick unlike many of the classics that can be hard to get through.
    • 4/5
      I enjoyed this book. It was a quick read, which can be really nice.The first part of the book read like a babysitter's worst nightmare; I could hardly believe that the kids could be that consistently stubborn. If I hadn't known that the book was based on Anne Bronte's own experiences, I would have said that part of the book was unrealistic.I enjoyed reading about Agnes' next job as a governess more. Although Rosalie was vain and conniving, I didn't mind her as much. I really liked the character of Mr. Weston, and as soon as he was introduced, I hoped that Agnes would fall for him.I liked Agnes as a character as well. It was very easy to imagine myself in her situation making a lot of the same choices, and that always adds an extra bit of interest for me.
    • 3/5
      Agnes Grey, which was published the same year as Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, isn't nearly as dramatic as either of her sisters' most famous works. It's a story of a basically good, but naive, young woman. As the youngest child in a loving family, she was pampered by her mother and older sister. She asserts some independence by seeking work as a governess in order to contribute to the family finances. Nothing in her background has prepared her for the situations in which she finds herself. She seems surprised when the families she works for treat her as less than a social equal. The household servants seem to be beneath her notice, and are hardly even mentioned in the novel. Good works provide her with her primary social contacts. In her limited free time, she visits the sick and elderly members of the community, and it is through these visits that she makes an acquaintance who will change her life.Agnes Grey is more overtly religious than either Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre, with its frequent references to the Bible and to Christian virtues. Its seems to instruct as much as it entertains. While Agnes doesn't have the passion of a Jane Eyre or the tragedy of a Catherine Earnshaw, she is a gentle soul who deserves a happy ending.
    • 4/5
      I liked this book by Anne Bronte about the governess. It is so interesting to read about the past in this way. I think that if I had been in her shoes I wouldn't even have lasted a week. I think I will need to read it again.
    • 3/5
      Wow.....I cannot believe how long it took me to finish this book, although the book is certainly not entirely to blame......my life was a much larger factor....however, had i been 'gripped' more by what i was reading, it would not have taken me nearly 2 months (!) to get through it. But then again, one does not read Bronte sister books for adventure and heart-pounding excitement, so i have no one to blame but myself. With that all said, i did enjoy some aspects of the book. It always fascinates me to learn that self-centered rude entitled behavior is not some recent quality in society that we are all so quick to point to as some terrible decline feature of today's world, but has been with us a very long time. This also shows clearly the value that faith can have in offering up a path through which we can maneuver through difficult times. A little sappy, a somewhat predictable ending, but no regrets.
    • 3/5
      This was a Librovox recording that was ok. I thought that the voice of Agnes was a bit whiny. This matched the first half of the book which was Agnes's narrative about the awful students in her care. I sympathized with her a bit and thought that not only the students but parents were absolutely awful and disrespectful. It is interesting how little preparation a governess had for taking care of the young people she spent all day teaching and guiding. Going into a family with predefined behavior and disfunction had to be incredibly difficult. I am sure that very little was ever discussed prior to starting a placement in terms of managing difficult situations a governess was most likely going to experience.

      A governess was both a necessity and an evil. She was needed but not included as a member of the family. The ultimate decision-making was also in the hands of the parents, something that I am sure many youth took advantage of on a day to day basis.

      The second half of the book was more bright as some of the characters received their just desserts and Agnes found her path and voice. I was happy with the ending and must confess that I do enjoy things being wrapped up neatly.

      Looking forward to more of the Bronte sisters.

    Book preview

    Agnes Grey - Anne Brontë

    cover.jpg

    Anne Brontë

    Agnes Grey

    New Edition

    Published by Sovereign

    An imprint of Max Bollinger

    This Edition

    First published in 2013

    Copyright © 2013 Sovereign

    Contents

    CHAPTER I—THE PARSONAGE

    CHAPTER II—FIRST LESSONS IN THE ART OF INSTRUCTION

    CHAPTER III—A FEW MORE LESSONS

    CHAPTER IV—THE GRANDMAMMA

    CHAPTER V—THE UNCLE

    CHAPTER VI—THE PARSONAGE AGAIN

    CHAPTER VII—HORTON LODGE

    CHAPTER VIII—THE ‘COMING OUT’

    CHAPTER IX—THE BALL

    CHAPTER X—THE CHURCH

    CHAPTER XI—THE COTTAGERS

    CHAPTER XII—THE SHOWER

    CHAPTER XIII—THE PRIMROSES

    CHAPTER XIV—THE RECTOR

    CHAPTER XV—THE WALK

    CHAPTER XVI—THE SUBSTITUTION

    CHAPTER XVII—CONFESSIONS

    CHAPTER XVIII—MIRTH AND MOURNING

    CHAPTER XIX—THE LETTER

    CHAPTER XX—THE FAREWELL

    CHAPTER XXI—THE SCHOOL

    CHAPTER XXII—THE VISIT

    CHAPTER XXIII—THE PARK

    CHAPTER XXIV—THE SANDS

    CHAPTER XXV—CONCLUSION

    CHAPTER I—THE PARSONAGE

    All true histories contain instruction; though, in some, the treasure may be hard to find, and when found, so trivial in quantity, that the dry, shrivelled kernel scarcely compensates for the trouble of cracking the nut. Whether this be the case with my history or not, I am hardly competent to judge. I sometimes think it might prove useful to some, and entertaining to others; but the world may judge for itself. Shielded by my own obscurity, and by the lapse of years, and a few fictitious names, I do not fear to venture; and will candidly lay before the public what I would not disclose to the most intimate friend.

    My father was a clergyman of the north of England, who was deservedly respected by all who knew him; and, in his younger days, lived pretty comfortably on the joint income of a small incumbency and a snug little property of his own. My mother, who married him against the wishes of her friends, was a squire’s daughter, and a woman of spirit. In vain it was represented to her, that if she became the poor parson’s wife, she must relinquish her carriage and her lady’s-maid, and all the luxuries and elegancies of affluence; which to her were little less than the necessaries of life. A carriage and a lady’s-maid were great conveniences; but, thank heaven, she had feet to carry her, and hands to minister to her own necessities. An elegant house and spacious grounds were not to be despised; but she would rather live in a cottage with Richard Grey than in a palace with any other man in the world.

    Finding arguments of no avail, her father, at length, told the lovers they might marry if they pleased; but, in so doing, his daughter would forfeit every fraction of her fortune. He expected this would cool the ardour of both; but he was mistaken. My father knew too well my mother’s superior worth not to be sensible that she was a valuable fortune in herself: and if she would but consent to embellish his humble hearth he should be happy to take her on any terms; while she, on her part, would rather labour with her own hands than be divided from the man she loved, whose happiness it would be her joy to make, and who was already one with her in heart and soul. So her fortune went to swell the purse of a wiser sister, who had married a rich nabob; and she, to the wonder and compassionate regret of all who knew her, went to bury herself in the homely village parsonage among the hills of —-. And yet, in spite of all this, and in spite of my mother’s high spirit and my father’s whims, I believe you might search all England through, and fail to find a happier couple.

    Of six children, my sister Mary and myself were the only two that survived the perils of infancy and early childhood. I, being the younger by five or six years, was always regarded as the child, and the pet of the family: father, mother, and sister, all combined to spoil me—not by foolish indulgence, to render me fractious and ungovernable, but by ceaseless kindness, to make me too helpless and dependent—too unfit for buffeting with the cares and turmoils of life.

    Mary and I were brought up in the strictest seclusion. My mother, being at once highly accomplished, well informed, and fond of employment, took the whole charge of our education on herself, with the exception of Latin—which my father undertook to teach us—so that we never even went to school; and, as there was no society in the neighbourhood, our only intercourse with the world consisted in a stately tea-party, now and then, with the principal farmers and tradespeople of the vicinity (just to avoid being stigmatized as too proud to consort with our neighbours), and an annual visit to our paternal grandfather’s; where himself, our kind grandmamma, a maiden aunt, and two or three elderly ladies and gentlemen, were the only persons we ever saw. Sometimes our mother would amuse us with stories and anecdotes of her younger days, which, while they entertained us amazingly, frequently awoke—in me, at least—a secret wish to see a little more of the world.

    I thought she must have been very happy: but she never seemed to regret past times. My father, however, whose temper was neither tranquil nor cheerful by nature, often unduly vexed himself with thinking of the sacrifices his dear wife had made for him; and troubled his head with revolving endless schemes for the augmentation of his little fortune, for her sake and ours. In vain my mother assured him she was quite satisfied; and if he would but lay by a little for the children, we should all have plenty, both for time present and to come: but saving was not my father’s forte. He would not run in debt (at least, my mother took good care he should not), but while he had money he must spend it: he liked to see his house comfortable, and his wife and daughters well clothed, and well attended; and besides, he was charitably disposed, and liked to give to the poor, according to his means: or, as some might think, beyond them.

    At length, however, a kind friend suggested to him a means of doubling his private property at one stroke; and further increasing it, hereafter, to an untold amount. This friend was a merchant, a man of enterprising spirit and undoubted talent, who was somewhat straitened in his mercantile pursuits for want of capital; but generously proposed to give my father a fair share of his profits, if he would only entrust him with what he could spare; and he thought he might safely promise that whatever sum the latter chose to put into his hands, it should bring him in cent. per cent. The small patrimony was speedily sold, and the whole of its price was deposited in the hands of the friendly merchant; who as promptly proceeded to ship his cargo, and prepare for his voyage.

    My father was delighted, so were we all, with our brightening prospects. For the present, it is true, we were reduced to the narrow income of the curacy; but my father seemed to think there was no necessity for scrupulously restricting our expenditure to that; so, with a standing bill at Mr. Jackson’s, another at Smith’s, and a third at Hobson’s, we got along even more comfortably than before: though my mother affirmed we had better keep within bounds, for our prospects of wealth were but precarious, after all; and if my father would only trust everything to her management, he should never feel himself stinted: but he, for once, was incorrigible.

    What happy hours Mary and I have passed while sitting at our work by the fire, or wandering on the heath-clad hills, or idling under the weeping birch (the only considerable tree in the garden), talking of future happiness to ourselves and our parents, of what we would do, and see, and possess; with no firmer foundation for our goodly superstructure than the riches that were expected to flow in upon us from the success of the worthy merchant’s speculations. Our father was nearly as bad as ourselves; only that he affected not to be so much in earnest: expressing his bright hopes and sanguine expectations in jests and playful sallies, that always struck me as being exceedingly witty and pleasant. Our mother laughed with delight to see him so hopeful and happy: but still she feared he was setting his heart too much upon the matter; and once I heard her whisper as she left the room, ‘God grant he be not disappointed! I know not how he would bear it.’

    Disappointed he was; and bitterly, too. It came like a thunder-clap on us all, that the vessel which contained our fortune had been wrecked, and gone to the bottom with all its stores, together with several of the crew, and the unfortunate merchant himself. I was grieved for him; I was grieved for the overthrow of all our air-built castles: but, with the elasticity of youth, I soon recovered the shook.

    Though riches had charms, poverty had no terrors for an inexperienced girl like me. Indeed, to say the truth, there was something exhilarating in the idea of being driven to straits, and thrown upon our own resources. I only wished papa, mamma, and Mary were all of the same mind as myself; and then, instead of lamenting past calamities we might all cheerfully set to work to remedy them; and the greater the difficulties, the harder our present privations, the greater should be our cheerfulness to endure the latter, and our vigour to contend against the former.

    Mary did not lament, but she brooded continually over the misfortune, and sank into a state of dejection from which no effort of mine could rouse her. I could not possibly bring her to regard the matter on its bright side as I did: and indeed I was so fearful of being charged with childish frivolity, or stupid insensibility, that I carefully kept most of my bright ideas and cheering notions to myself; well knowing they could not be appreciated.

    My mother thought only of consoling my father, and paying our debts and retrenching our expenditure by every available means; but my father was completely overwhelmed by the calamity: health, strength, and spirits sank beneath the blow, and he never wholly recovered them. In vain my mother strove to cheer him, by appealing to his piety, to his courage, to his affection for herself and us. That very affection was his greatest torment: it was for our sakes he had so ardently longed to increase his fortune—it was our interest that had lent such brightness to his hopes, and that imparted such bitterness to his present distress. He now tormented himself with remorse at having neglected my mother’s advice; which would at least have saved him from the additional burden of debt—he vainly reproached himself for having brought her from the dignity, the ease, the luxury of her former station to toil with him through the cares and toils of poverty. It was gall and wormwood to his soul to see that splendid, highly-accomplished woman, once so courted and admired, transformed into an active managing housewife, with hands and head continually occupied with household labours and household economy. The very willingness with which she performed these duties, the cheerfulness with which she bore her reverses, and the kindness which withheld her from imputing the smallest blame to him, were all perverted by this ingenious self-tormentor into further aggravations of his sufferings. And thus the mind preyed upon the body, and disordered the system of the nerves, and they in turn increased the troubles of the mind, till by action and reaction his health was seriously impaired; and not one of us could convince him that the aspect of our affairs was not half so gloomy, so utterly hopeless, as his morbid imagination represented it to be.

    The useful pony phaeton was sold, together with the stout, well-fed pony—the old favourite that we had fully determined should end its days in peace, and never pass from our hands; the little coach-house and stable were let; the servant boy, and the more efficient (being the more expensive) of the two maid-servants, were dismissed. Our clothes were mended, turned, and darned to the utmost verge of decency; our food, always plain, was now simplified to an unprecedented degree—except my father’s favourite dishes; our coals and candles were painfully economized—the pair of candles reduced to one, and that most sparingly used; the coals carefully husbanded in the half-empty grate: especially when my father was out on his parish duties, or confined to bed through illness—then we sat with our feet on the fender, scraping the perishing embers together from time to time, and occasionally adding a slight scattering of the dust and fragments of coal, just to keep them alive. As for our carpets, they in time were worn threadbare, and patched and darned even to a greater extent than our garments. To save the expense of a gardener, Mary and I undertook to keep the garden in order; and all the cooking and household work that could not easily be managed by one servant-girl, was done by my mother and sister, with a little occasional help from me: only a little, because, though a woman in my own estimation, I was still a child in theirs; and my mother, like most active, managing women, was not gifted with very active daughters: for this reason—that being so clever and diligent herself, she was never tempted to trust her affairs to a deputy, but, on the contrary, was willing to act and think for others as well as for number one; and whatever was the business in hand, she was apt to think that no one could do it so well as herself: so that whenever I offered to assist her, I received such an answer as—‘No, love, you cannot indeed—there’s nothing here you can do. Go and help your sister, or get her to take a walk with you—tell her she must not sit so much, and stay so constantly in the house as she does—she may well look thin and dejected.’

    ‘Mary, mamma says I’m to help you; or get you to take a walk with me; she says you may well look thin and dejected, if you sit so constantly in the house.’

    ‘Help me you cannot, Agnes; and I cannot go out with you—I have far too much to do.’

    ‘Then let me help you.’

    ‘You cannot, indeed, dear child. Go and practise your music, or play with the kitten.’

    There was always plenty of sewing on hand; but I had not been taught to cut out a single garment, and except plain hemming and seaming, there was little I could do, even in that line; for they both asserted that it was far easier to do the work themselves than to prepare it for me: and besides, they liked better to see me prosecuting my studies, or amusing myself—it was time enough for me to sit bending over my work, like a grave matron, when my favourite little pussy was become a steady old cat. Under such circumstances, although I was not many degrees more useful than the kitten, my idleness was not entirely without excuse.

    Through all our troubles, I never but once heard my mother complain of our want of money. As summer was coming on she observed to Mary and me, ‘What a desirable thing it would be for your papa to spend a few weeks at a watering-place. I am convinced the sea-air and the change of scene would be of incalculable service to him. But then, you see, there’s no money,’ she added, with a sigh. We both wished exceedingly that the thing might be done, and lamented greatly that it could not. ‘Well, well!’ said she, ‘it’s no use complaining. Possibly something might be done to further the project after all. Mary, you are a beautiful drawer. What do you say to doing a few more pictures in your best style, and getting them framed, with the water-coloured drawings you have already done, and trying to dispose of them to some liberal picture-dealer, who has the sense to discern their merits?’

    ‘Mamma, I should be delighted if you think they could be sold; and for anything worth while.’

    ‘It’s worth while trying, however, my dear: do you procure the drawings, and I’ll endeavour to find a purchaser.’

    ‘I wish I could do something,’ said I.

    ‘You, Agnes! well, who knows? You draw pretty well, too: if you choose some simple piece for your subject, I daresay you will be able to produce something we shall all be proud to exhibit.’

    ‘But I have another scheme in my head, mamma, and have had long, only I did not like to mention it.’

    ‘Indeed! pray tell us what it is.’

    ‘I should like to be a governess.’

    My mother uttered an exclamation of surprise, and laughed. My sister dropped her work in astonishment, exclaiming, ‘You a governess, Agnes! What can you be dreaming of?’

    ‘Well! I don’t see anything so very extraordinary in it. I do not pretend to be able to instruct great girls; but surely I could teach little ones: and I should like it so much: I am so fond of children. Do let me, mamma!’

    ‘But, my love, you have not learned to take care of yourself yet: and young children require more judgment and experience to manage than elder ones.’

    ‘But, mamma, I am above eighteen, and quite able to take care of myself, and others too. You do not know half the wisdom and prudence I possess, because I have never been tried.’

    ‘Only think,’ said Mary, ‘what would you do in a house full of strangers, without me or mamma to speak and act for you—with a parcel of children, besides yourself, to attend to; and no one to look to for advice? You would not even know what clothes to put on.’

    ‘You think, because I always do as you bid me, I have no judgment of my own: but only try me—that is all I ask—and you shall see what I can do.’

    At that moment my father entered and the subject of our discussion was explained to him.

    ‘What, my little Agnes a governess!’ cried he, and, in spite of his dejection, he laughed at the idea.

    ‘Yes, papa, don’t you say anything against it: I should like it so much; and I am sure I could manage delightfully.’

    ‘But, my darling, we could not spare you.’ And a tear glistened in his eye as he added—‘No, no! afflicted as we are, surely we are not brought to that pass yet.’

    ‘Oh, no!’ said my mother. ‘There is no necessity whatever for such a step; it is merely a whim of her own. So you must hold your tongue, you naughty girl; for, though you are so ready to leave us, you know very well we cannot part with you.’

    I was silenced for that day, and for many succeeding ones; but still I did not wholly relinquish my darling scheme. Mary got her drawing materials, and steadily set to work. I got mine too; but while I drew, I thought of other things. How delightful it would be to be a governess! To go out into the world; to enter upon a new life; to act for myself; to exercise my unused faculties; to try my unknown powers; to earn my own maintenance, and something to comfort and help my father, mother, and sister, besides exonerating them from the provision of my food and clothing; to show papa what his little Agnes could do; to convince mamma and Mary that I was not quite the helpless, thoughtless being they supposed. And then, how charming to be entrusted with the care and education of children! Whatever others said, I felt I was fully competent to the task: the clear remembrance of my own thoughts in early childhood would be a surer guide than the instructions of the most mature adviser. I had but to

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