It was late in the autumn when the travellers arrived at Odessa, whence
they were to embark for Constantinople, in the neighbourhood of which
city they intended to pass the winter.
It must not be supposed that Falkner journeyed in the luxurious and
troublesome style of a _Milord Anglais_. A calèche was his only
carriage. He had no attendant for himself, and was often obliged to
change the woman hired for the service of Elizabeth. The Parisian with
whom they commenced their journey was reduced to despair by the time
they arrived at Hamburgh. The German who replaced her was dismissed at
Stockholm. The Swede next hired became homesick at Moscow, and they
arrived at Odessa without any servant. Falkner scarcely knew what to do,
being quite tired of the exactions, caprices, and repinings of each
expatriated menial--yet it was necessary that Elizabeth should have a
female attendant; and, on his arrival at Odessa, he immediately set on
foot various inquiries to procure one. Several presented themselves, who
proved wholly unfit; and Falkner was made angry by their extortionate
demands and total incapacity.
At length a person was ushered in to him, who looked, who was, English.
She was below the middle stature--spare, and upright in figure, with a
composed countenance, and an appearance of tidiness and quiet that was
quite novel, and by no means unpleasing, contrasted with the animated
gestures, loud voices, and exaggerated protestations of the foreigners.
"I hear, sir," she began, "that you are inquiring for an attendant to
wait on Miss Falkner during your journey to Vienna: I should be very
glad if you would accept my services."
"Are you a lady's maid in any English family here?" asked Falkner.
"I beg your pardon, sir," continued the little woman, primly, "I am a
governess. I lived many years with a Russian lady at St. Petersburgh;
she brought me here, and is gone and left me."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Falkner; "that seems a very unjust proceeding--how
did it happen?"
"On our arrival at Odessa, sir, the lady, who had no such notion before,
insisted on converting me to her church; and because I refused, she used
me, I may say, very ill; and hiring a Greek girl, left me here quite
destitute."
"It seems that you have the spirit of a martyr," observed Falkner,
smiling.
"I do not pretend to that," she replied; "but I was born and brought up
a Protestant; and I did not like to pretend to believe what I could
not."
Falkner was pleased with the answer, and looked more scrutinizingly on
the applicant. She was not ugly--but slightly pitted with the
smallpox--and with insignificant features; her mouth looked
obstinate--and her light gray eyes, though very quick and intelligent,
yet from their smallness, and the lids and brows being injured by the
traces of the malady, did not redeem her countenance from an entirely
commonplace appearance, which might not disgust, but could not attract.
"Do you understand," asked Falkner, "that I need a servant, and not a
governess? I have no other attendant for my daughter; and you must not
be above waiting on her as she has been accustomed."
"I can make no objection," she replied; "my first wish is to get away
from this place, free from expense. At Vienna I can find a situation
such as I have been accustomed to--now I shall be very glad to reach
Germany safely in any creditable capacity--and I shall be grateful to
you, sir, if you do not consider my being destitute against me, but be
willing to help a country-woman in distress."
There was a simplicity, though a hardiness in her manner, and an entire
want of pretension or affectation that pleased Falkner. He inquired
concerning her abilities as a governess, and began to feel that in that
capacity also she might be useful to Elizabeth. He had been accustomed,
on all convenient occasions, to hire a profusion of masters; but this
desultory sort of teaching did not inculcate those habits of industry
and daily application which it is the best aim of education to promote.
At the same time he much feared an improper female companion for the
child, and had suffered a good deal of anxiety on account of the many
changes he had been forced to make. He observed the lady before him
narrowly--there was nothing prepossessing, but all seemed plain and
unassuming; though formal, she was direct--her words few--her voice
quiet and low, without being soft or constrained. He asked her what
remuneration she would expect; she said that her present aim was to get
to Vienna free of expense, and she did not expect much beyond--she had
been accustomed to receive eighty pounds a year as governess, but as she
was to serve Miss Falkner as maid, she would only ask twenty.
"But as I wish you to act as both," said Falkner, "we must join the two
sums, and I will pay you a hundred."
A ray of pleasure actually for a second illuminated the little woman's
face: while with an unaltered tone of voice she replied, "I shall be
very thankful, sir, if you think proper."
"You must, however, understand our conditions," said Falkner. "I talk of
Vienna--but I travel for my pleasure, with no fixed bourn or time. I am
not going direct to Germany--I spend the winter at Constantinople. It
may be that I shall linger in those parts--it may be that from Greece I
shall cross to Italy. You must not insist on my taking you to Vienna: it
is enough for your purpose, I suppose, if you reach a civilized part of
the world, and are comfortably situated, till you find some other family
going whither you desire."
She was acquiescent. She insisted, however, with much formality, that he
should make inquiries concerning her from several respectable families
at Odessa; otherwise, she said, he could not fitly recommend her to any
other situation. Falkner complied. Every one spoke of her in high terms,
lauding her integrity and kindness of heart. "Miss Jervis is the best
creature in the world," said the wife of the French consul; "only she is
English to the core--so precise, and formal, and silent, and quiet, and
cold. Nothing can persuade her to do what she does not think right.
After being so shamefully deserted, she might have lived in my house, or
four or five others, doing nothing; but she chose to have pupils, and to
earn money by teaching. This might have been merely for the sake of
paying for her journey; but, besides this, we discovered that she
supports some poor relation in England, and, while cast away here, she
still remembered and sent remittances to one whom she thought in want.
She has a heart of gold, though it does not shine."
Pleased with this testimony, Falkner thought himself fortunate in
securing her services, at the same time that he feared he should find
her presence a considerable encumbrance. A servant was a cipher, but a
governess must receive attention--she was an equal, who would
perpetually form a third with him and Elizabeth. His reserve, his love
of independence, and his regard for the feelings of another, would be
perpetually at war. To be obliged to talk when he wished to be silent;
to listen to, and answer frivolous remarks; to know that at all times a
stranger was there--all this seemed to him a gigantic evil; but it
vanished after a few days' trial of their new companion's qualities.
Whatever Miss Jervis's latent virtues might be, she thought that the
chief among them was to be
"Content to dwell in decencies for ever"--
her ambition was to be unimpeachably correct in conduct. It a little
jarred with her notions to be in the house of a single gentleman--but
her desolate situation at Odessa allowed her no choice; and she tried to
counterbalance the evil by seeing as little of her employer as possible.
Brought up from childhood to her present occupation, she was moulded to
its very form; and her thoughts never strayed beyond her theory of a
good governess. Her methods were all straightforward--pointing steadily
to one undisguised aim--no freak of imagination ever led her out of one
hard, defined, unerratic line. She had no pretension, even in the
innermost recess of her heart, beyond her station. To be diligent and
conscientious in her task of teaching was the sole virtue to which she
pretended; and, possessed of much good sense, great integrity, and
untiring industry, she succeeded beyond what could have been expected
from one apparently so insignificant and taciturn.
She was, at the beginning, limited very narrowly in the exercise of any
authority over her pupil. She was obliged, therefore, to exert herself
in winning influence, instead of controlling by reprimands. She took
great pains to excite Elizabeth to learn; and once having gained her
consent to apply to any particular study, she kept her to it with
patience and perseverance; and the very zeal and diligence she displayed
in teaching made Elizabeth ashamed to repay her with an inattention that
looked like ingratitude. Soon, also, curiosity and a love of knowledge
developed themselves. Elizabeth's mind was of that high order which soon
found something congenial in study. The acquirement of new ideas--the
sense of order, and afterward of power--awoke a desire for improvement.
Falkner was a man of no common intellect; but his education had been
desultory; and he had never lived with the learned and well-informed.
His mind was strong in its own elements, but these lay scattered, and
somewhat chaotic. His observation was keen, and his imagination fervid;
but it was inborn, uncultivated, and unenriched by any vast stores of
reading. He was the very opposite of a pedant. Miss Jervis was much of
the latter; but the two served to form Elizabeth to something better
than either. She learned from Falkner the uses of learning: from Miss
Jervis she acquired the thoughts and experience of other men. Like all
young and ardent minds, which are capable of enthusiasm, she found
infinite delight in the pages of ancient history: she read biography,
and speedily found models for herself, whereby she measured her own
thoughts and conduct, rectifying her defects, and aiming at that honour
and generosity which made her heart beat and cheeks glow when narrated
of others.
There was another very prominent distinction between Falkner and the
governess: it made a part of the system of the latter never to praise.
All that she tasked her pupil to do was a duty--when not done it was a
deplorable fault--when executed, the duty was fulfilled, and she need
not reproach herself--that was all. Falkner, on the contrary, fond and
eager, soon looked upon her as a prodigy; and though reserved, as far as
his own emotions were concerned, he made no secret of his almost
adoration of Elizabeth. His praise was enthusiastic--it brought tears
into her eyes--and yet, strange to say, it is doubtful whether she ever
strived so eagerly, or felt so satisfied with it, as for the
parsimonious expressions of bare satisfaction from Miss Jervis. They
excited two distinct sensations. She loved her protector the more for
his fervid approbation--it was the crown of all his gifts--she wept
sometimes only to remember his ardent expressions of approbation; but
Miss Jervis inspired self-diffidence, and with it a stronger desire for
improvement. Thus the sensibility of her nature was cultivated, while
her conceit was checked: to feel that to be meritorious with Miss Jervis
was impossible--not to be faulty was an ambitious aim. She easily
discovered that affection rather than discernment dictated the
approbation of Falkner; and loved him better, but did not prize herself
the more.
He, indeed, was transported by the progress she made. Like most
self-educated, or uneducated men, he had a prodigious respect for
learning, and was easily deceived into thinking much of what was little:
he felt elated when he found Elizabeth eager to recite the wonders
recorded in history, and to delineate the characters of ancient
heroes--narrating their achievements, and quoting their sayings. His
imagination and keen spirit of observation were, at the same time, of
the utmost use. He analyzed with discrimination the actions of her
favourites--brought the experience of a mind full of passion and
reflection to comment upon every subject, and taught her to refer each
maxim and boasted virtue to her own sentiments and situation; thus to
form a store of principle by which to direct her future life.
Nor were these more masculine studies the only lessons of Miss
Jervis--needlework entered into her plan of education, as well as the
careful inculcation of habits of neatness and order; and thus Elizabeth
escaped for ever the danger she had hitherto run of wanting those
feminine qualities without which every woman must be unhappy--and, to a
certain degree, unsexed. The governess, meanwhile, was the most
unobtrusive of human beings. She never showed any propensity to
incommode her employer by making him feel her presence. Seated in a
corner of the carriage, with a book in her hand, she adopted the ghostly
rule of never speaking except when spoken to. When stopping at inns, or
when, on arriving at Constantinople, they became stationary, she was
even less obtrusive. At first Falkner had deemed it proper to ask her to
accompany them in their excursions and drives; but she was so alive to
the impropriety of being seen with a gentleman, with only a young child
for their companion, that she always preferred staying at home. After
ranging a beautiful landscape, after enjoying the breezes of heaven and
the sight of the finest views in the world, when Elizabeth returned she
always found her governess sitting in the same place, away from the
window (because, when in London, she had been told that it was not
proper to look out of a window), even though the sublimest objects of
nature were spread for her view; and employed on needlework, or the
study of some language that might hereafter serve to raise her in the
class of governesses. She had travelled over half the habitable globe,
and part of the uninhabited--but she had never diverged from the
prejudices and habits of home--no gleam of imagination shed its golden
hue over her drab-coloured mind: whatever of sensibility existed to
soften or dulcify, she sedulously hid; yet such was her serenity, her
justice, her trustworthiness, and total absence of pretension, that it
was impossible not to esteem, and almost to like her.
The trio, thus diverse in disposition, yet, by the force of a secret
harmony, never fell into discord. Miss Jervis was valued, and by
Elizabeth obeyed in all that concerned her vocation--she therefore was
satisfied. Falkner felt her use, and gladly marked the good effects of
application and knowledge on the character of his beloved ward--it was
the moulding of a block of Parian marble into a muse; all corners--all
superfluous surface--all roughness departed--the intelligent, noble
brow--the serious, inquiring eye--the mouth--seat of sensibility--all
these were developed with new beauty, as animated by the aspiring soul
within. Her gentleness and sweetness increased with the cultivation of
her mind. To be wise and good was her ambition--partly to please her
beloved father--partly because her young mind perceived the uses and
beauty of knowledge.
If anything could have cured the rankling wounds of Falkner's mind, it
was the excellence of the young Elizabeth. Again and again he repeated
to himself, that, brought up among the worldly and cold, her noblest
qualities would either have been destroyed, or produced misery. In
contributing to her happiness and goodness, he hoped to make some
atonement for the past. There were many periods when remorse, and
regret, and self-abhorrence held powerful sway over him: he was, indeed,
during the larger portion of his time, in the fullest sense of the
word--miserable. Yet there were gleams of sunshine he had never hoped to
experience again--and he readily gave way to this relief; while he hoped
that the worst of his pains were over.
In this idea he was egregiously mistaken. He was allowed to repose for a
few years. But the cry of blood was yet unanswered--the evil he had
committed unatoned; though they did not approach him, the consequences
of his crime were full of venom and bitterness to others--and, unawares
and unexpectedly, he was brought to view and feel the wretchedness of
which he was the sole author.