Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1873-06-14
other reason, but, of course, there may
be one that L don't know of.

st. Bndget's, and the last four miles
had to be done by road, in an omnibus
that jolted q good deal, so that people
were apt to be tired when they reached
the town. Mr.. Ambrose, like the courtly
old gentleman he was, went down to
meet the new mistress at the Silver
Fish, where the omnibus always stop
ped.
''Now they are coming" cried the
poor lady, as we heard the garden door
open. 81 sha'nt know what to say to
her, Mrs. Acton L wish hadn't asked
her to come"
"It's no matter, for the vicar is alone" !"
1 replied, looking out of the window,
whence 1 could see that gentleman rap
idly approaching the house. .-
He came straight into us, but his face
wore an expression of dismay.
"Well ?" we cried as he entered then,
seeing his face, his wife exclaimed, go
Justin, what is it =? Is she so very bad ?"
"Bad!" cried the vicar, standing in
front of us. "What the dickens could
Dodson send her here for? wrote for
schoolmistress, didn't I, Mrs. Acton ?"
81 believe so" 1 replied meekly /;
"hasn't he sent one?"
ooh, do tell us what she is, entreat-
ed Mrs. Ambrose, wringing her little
white fingers. "Do tell us what she is. "
"My dear, she is a lady," said the
vicar; and then he sat down and looked
at us, and we looked at him.
For few moments we were too much
astonished to speak.
ga ladyl what shall we do with her ?"
gasped Mrs. Ambrose presently, as all
the social complications of the position
rose before her.
"That's the bother of it I foresee
all sorts of difficulties" sighed the vicar;
''but it can't be helped, and" he added,
Frightening, perhaps otherpeoplewon t
find it out if we don't tell them"
GLOW is she dressed ?" asked eager
| ly.
"All in black, looking small and
straight. somehow"
"Is she pretty? ?"
"No."
"Then they aOoat find her out, I said
emphatically. eff a woman isn't pretty
and we'll dressed, and does not call her
self lady, she will only be found out
| by her own class"
"How can you know ?" said the vicar,
looking at me.
"Never mind howl do know; and
if we and Mrs. Henry are wise enough
to keep our own counsel and our own
places, it will be all right"
"But won't she expect to be treated
as lady-asked to dinner and all
that ?" asked Mrs. Ambrose doubtfully.
81 think not" said the vicar "and
if she does we can't help it. If she is a
lady, she will recognize her position
and accept it."
I could not tell how old she was. She
might have been thirty she might have
been fve-and forty. I used to watch
her for half-hours at time to try and
settle the question to my own satisfac-
ton, but l was always puzzled.
But she showed her authority at the
first sign of disobedience There was
no threatening, no talking about how
she would punish them if they were
naughty, but the punishment came
swiftly on the commission of the offence,
and in less than month she had estab-
lished such discipline as hadnever been
dreamed of under the old rule.
And she taught them so wonderfully.
[ used to listen in amazement while she
gave the lessons, and the children be-
gan to improve rapidly,
We used to wonder, Mrs. Ambrose
and I, what Mrs. Henry did in the even
ings. Her dress was so simple that
Ineedlework for herself could not occupy
her time yet she was seldom out of
doors, even in the sweet summer even
ings, until it was almost dark, and
then she used to walk up and down the
little garden that divided her house
from the school for an hour at time,
more for the sake of exercise than en-
| joyment, it would seem by the rapid
steady pace at which she moved. One
night, when I was coming home late, 1
stopped and spoke to her.
"You walk late, Mrs. Henry but
perhaps it is the pleasantest time dur
ing the hot weather."
g 1t is the cheapest, Mrs. Acton. 1t
saves an hour of daylight to come out
now instead of earlier"
1t struck me all of heap, as the
people say, to hear this woman, who
was earning seventy pounds per annum,
and appeared to have no one but herself
to care for, talk of "saving daylight :"
as if the cost of candle were some
thing to be avoided. I felt very sorry
for her. L don't know why it came
over me all at once, as it did, that her
life was a very hard one. But [ put
my wrinkled old hand on the little firm
white fingers which rested on the gate,
and said" My dear you mustnot work
too hard"
[ was frightened when I had done it.
She was so self-possessed and reserved,
that [ thought she would be angry |;
but, instead of that, the steady little
fingers began to tremble and twined
themselves round mine with clinging
grasp, and then [ found she was crying.
L didn't say word more to her. When
people are as old as [ am, and have
gone through O great deal of trouble,
they know what poor weak things words
are, and how often they do more harm
than good. So held her hand without
speaking, and presently she stopped
crying.
Sometimes I feel so lonely" she
whispered, "and you are so kind /;
please forget it, Mrs. Acton"
" Yes" for [ quite understand her.
"But is not your life too hard? Can't
you let an old woman help you, my
dear ?"
She took my hand, and kissed it.
4" No, it is not too hard, and no one
can help me but it will be easier by
and by. Good night.
And then she slipped away, as if
afraid of saying more, and went home
and thought my thoughts in silence.