As I continued for more than an hour on the sofa, gloomily passing in
review my short career, my present position, and occasionally venturing
a surmise upon the future, a feeling which I had not had before,--one
which had hitherto been latent--pride, gradually was awakened in my
bosom, and as it was aroused, it sustained me. I have before observed
that fear had been my predominating feeling till I had quitted my
parents, love and gratitude had succeeded it, but now, smarting under
injustice, pride, and, with pride, many less worthy passions, were
summoned up, and I appeared in the course of two short hours to be
another being. I felt confidence in myself, my eyes were opened all at
once as it were to the heartlessness of the world; the more I considered
the almost hopeless condition in which I was in, the more my energy was
roused. I sat down on the sofa a confiding, clinging girl. I rose up a
resolute, clear-sighted woman.
I reflected, and had made up my mind that Madame d'Albret would never
forgive one whom she had injured as she had me. She had induced me to
break off all family and parental ties (such as they were), she had made
me wholly dependent upon her, and had now cast me off in a cruel and
heartless manner. She had used deceit because she knew that she could
not justify her conduct. She had raised calumnies against me, accusing
me of ingratitude, as an excuse for her own conduct. Anything like a
reconciliation therefore was impossible, and any assistance from her I
was determined not to accept.
Besides, was she not married to Monsieur de G--, whom pique at my
refusal had made my enemy, and who had, in all probability, as he
pressed his own suit, perceived the necessity, independent of the
gratification it afforded him to be my ruin, of removing me as a serious
obstacle to Madame d'Albret's contracting a new alliance? From that
quarter, therefore, there was nothing to be expected or hoped for, even
if it were desired. And what was my position with Madame Bathurst? On
a visit! At the termination of which I was houseless.
That Madame Bathurst would probably offer me a temporary asylum, for she
would hardly turn me out of doors, I felt convinced; but my new-born
pride revolted at the idea of dependence upon one on whom I had no claim
whatever. What, then, was to be done? I examined my capital. I was
handsome, but that was of no use to me; the insidious conduct of
Monsieur de G--had raised to positive dislike the indifference that I
felt for his sex, and I had no inclination to make a market of my
personal advantages. I could sing and play well. I spoke French and
English, and understood Italian. I could embroider the work well with
my needle. Such were my capabilities, my stock-in-trade with which to
commence the world; I was, therefore, competent to a certain degree to
give lessons in music and in French, or to take a governess's place, or
to become a modiste.
I thought of Madame Paon, but when I reflected in what manner I had
visited her, the respect and homage, I may say, which had been offered
up to me, and how different my reception and treatment would be if I
entered the establishment as one of themselves, the reflection was too
mortifying, and I determined that if I were driven to such an employment
for my livelihood, it should be where I was not known. After much
consideration, I decided that I would see Madame Bathurst, make known to
her my intentions, and ask her assistance and recommendation to procure
me a situation. I arranged my hair, removed all traces of my late
agitation, and went down to her. I found her alone, and asking her
whether she could spare me a few minutes of her time, I handed to her
the letter which I had received from Madame Paon, and then made her
acquainted with that portion of my history with which she had been
unacquainted. As I spoke my courage revived, and my voice became firm--
I felt that I was no longer a girl.
"Madame Bathurst, I have confided this to you, because you will agree
with me that there can be nothing more between Madame d'Albret and me,
for even if she made an offer, I would never accept it. I am now in a
very false position, owing to her conduct. I am here on a visit,
supposed by you to be the _protegee_ of that lady, and a person of some
consequence. Her protection has been taken away from me, and I am now a
beggar, with nothing but my talents for my future support. I explain
this to you frankly, because I cannot think of remaining as your
visitor; and if I do not ask too much, all that I wish of your
friendship is, that you will give me such a recommendation as you think
I deserve, by which I may obtain the means of future livelihood."
"My dear Valerie," replied Madame Bathurst, "I will not hurt your
feelings. It is a heavy blow, and I am glad to perceive, that instead
of being crashed by it, you appear to rise. I have heard of Madame
d'Albret's marriage, and the deceit which she has been practising
evidently to get rid of you. Not many days ago I wrote to her, pointing
out the variance between what she stated in her letters, and her actual
position, and requesting to know what was to be done relative to you.
Her answer I have received this day. She states that you have cruelly
deceived her; that at the very time that you professed the utmost
gratitude and affection, you were slandering her and laughing at her
behind her back, particularly to Monsieur de G--, to whom she is now
married; and that, however she might be inclined to forgive and overlook
your conduct herself, that Monsieur de G--is resolute, and determined
that you never shall come again under his roof. She has, therefore,
transmitted a billet of 500 francs to enable you to return to your
father's house."
"Then," replied I, "it is as I suspected; Monsieur de G--is the cause of
all."
"Why did you trust him, Valerie, or rather why were you so imprudent,
and I must add, ungrateful, to speak of Madame d'Albret as you did."
"And you believe it, Madame Bathurst, you believe that I did so? I can
only say that if such is your belief, the sooner we part the better."
I then told her what I had omitted in my narrative, how I had refused
Monsieur de G--, and explaining his character, showed that he had acted
thus out of interest and revenge.
"I believe it all now, Valerie, and I must beg your pardon for having
supposed that you had been ungrateful. This explanation relieves me,
and enables me to make you the offer which I had thought of doing, had I
not been checked by this calumny against you. I say, therefore, for the
present, my dear Valerie, remain here. You are quite equal to be
governess to Caroline, but I prefer you should remain with me more as a
friend than as a governess. I say this, because I fear you will be too
proud to remain as a dependent, without making yourself useful. You
know that I did intend to take a governess for Caroline as soon as we
went to London. I will now take you if you will consent, and shall feel
the obligation on my side, as I shall not only have retained a capable
person, but shall also not lose a dear young friend."
"I thank you for the offer, my dear madame," replied I, rising and
courtseying; "I trust, however, that you will allow me a little time for
reflection before I decide. You must admit that this is a most critical
epoch in my life, and I must not make one false step if it is possible
to prevent it."
"Certainly," replied Madame Bathurst, "certainly. You are right,
Valerie, in reflecting well before you decide; but I must say that you
are rather haughty in your manner towards me."
"I may have been, my dear Madame Bathurst, but if so, take my excuses.
Recollect the Valerie of yesterday, who was your visitor and young
friend, is not the Valerie of to-day!" and with these words I took up
the cheque for 500 francs which Madame Bathurst had laid on the table,
left the room, and returned to my own apartment.
I returned to my room, and was glad to be once more alone, for although
I bore up well under the circumstances, still the compressed excitement
was wearying to the frame. I had resolved to accept the offer of Madame
Bathurst at the time that she made it, but I did not choose to appear to
jump at it, as she probably expected that I would. I felt no confidence
in anyone but my own self after the treatment of Madame d'Albret, and I
considered that Madame Bathurst would probably dismiss me as soon as my
services were no longer required, with as little ceremony as had Madame
d'Albret. That I was capable of taking charge of and instructing
Caroline, I knew well, and that Madame Bathurst would not easily procure
a governess so capable in singing and music as myself. There would be
consequently no obligation, and I resolved that I would reject her terms
if they were not favourable. I had some money, for I had spent but a
small portion of twenty sovereigns which Madame d'Albret had given me in
a purse when I quitted her. I had therefore the means of subsistence
for some little time, should I not come to terms with Madame Bathurst.
After an hour's reflection, I sat down and wrote a letter to Madame
Paon, stating what had occurred, and my determination to obtain my own
livelihood, and adding that as I was not sure whether I should accept of
Madame Bathurst's offer, I wished her to give me a letter of
introduction to some French acquaintance of hers in London, as I was an
utter stranger to everything, and without advice, should probably be
cheated in every way. As soon as this letter was finished I commenced
another to Madame d'Albret, which was in the following words:--
"My dear Madame,
"Yes, I will still say my dear madame, for although you will never hear
of me again, you are still dear to me, more dear perhaps than you were,
when I considered you my patroness and my more than mother. And why
so,--because when those we love are in misfortune, when those who have
benefited us are likely to soon want succour themselves, it is then the
time that we should pour out our gratitude and love. I do not consider
it your fault, my dear Madame d'Albret, that you have been deceived by a
base hypocrite, who wears so captivating a mask; I do not blame you that
you have been persuaded by him that I have slandered and behaved
ungratefully to you. You have been blinded by your own feelings towards
him and by his consummate art. I am also to blame for not having
communicated to you that _he_ made me a proposal of marriage but a short
time previous to my departure, and which I indignantly rejected, because
he had taken such an unusual step without any previous communication
with you on the subject--not that I would have accepted him, even if you
had wished it, for I knew how false and unworthy he was considered to
be. I should have told you, my dear madame, of this offer of marriage
on his part, but he requested me as a favour not to mention it to you,
and I did not then know that he was a ruined man, a desperate gambler,
and that he had been obliged to quit this country for dishonourable
practices at the gaming-table, as you may easily discover to be true;
for even Madame Paon can give you all the necessary information. And
into this man's hands have you fallen, my dear Madame d'Albret. Alas,
how you are to be pitied! my heart bleeds for you, and I fear that a few
months will suffice to prove to you the truth of what I now write. That
I am a sufferer by the conduct of Monsieur de G--is true. I have lost a
kind patroness, an indulgent mother, and am now left to obtain my own
livelihood how I can. All my visions, all my dreams of happiness with
you, all my wishes of proving my gratitude and love for your kindness
have vanished, and here I am, young, alone, and unprotected. But I
think not of myself; at all events I am free--I am not chained to such a
person as Monsieur de G--, and it is of you, and all that you will have
to suffer, that my thoughts and heart are full. I return you the cheque
for 500 francs--I cannot take the money. You are married to Monsieur de
G--, and I can accept nothing from one who has made you believe that
Valerie could be calumnious and ungrateful. Adieu, my dear madame; I
shall pray for you, and weep over your misfortunes.
"Yours ever gratefully,
"Valerie de Chatenoeuf."
That there was a mixed feeling in this letter, I confess. As I said in
it, I really pitied Madame d'Albret and forgave her her unkindness; but
I sought revenge upon Monsieur de G--, and in seeking that, I planted
daggers into the heart of Madame d'Albret; but I did not at the time
that I wrote reflect upon this. What I wished to do was to vindicate
myself, and that I could not do without exposing Monsieur de G--, and
exposing him in his true colours was, of course, awakening Madame
d'Albret to her position sooner than she would have been, and filling
her mind with doubts and jealousy. That this was not kind, I felt when
I had perused what I had written previous to folding the letter, but I
felt no inclination to alter it, probably because I had not quite so
wholly forgiven Madame d'Albret as I thought that I had. Be it as it
may, the letter was sealed and despatched by that night's post, as well
as that written to Madame Paon.
I had now only to arrange with Madame Bathurst, and I went down into the
drawing-room where I found her alone. "I have considered, my dear
Madame Bathurst," said I, "your kind proposal. I certainly have had a
little struggle to get over, as you must admit that it is not pleasant
to sink from a visitor in a family into a dependent, as I must in future
be, if I remain with you, but the advantages of being with a person whom
I respect as much as I do you, and of having charge of a young person to
whom I am so attached as I am to Caroline, have decided me on accepting
your offer. May I know then, what may be the terms upon which I am
received as governess?"
"Valerie, I feel that this is all pride," replied Madame Bathurst, "but
still it is not disreputable pride, and though I shall yield to it, I
would have made no terms, but retained you as a dear friend, my purse
and everything in the house at your command, and I hoped that you would
have allowed me so to do; but as you will not, I have only to say that I
should have expected to pay any governess whom I might have retained for
Caroline, a salary of 100 pounds per annum, and that I offer you the
same."
"It is more than sufficient, my dear madame," replied I, "and I accept
your offer if you will take me on trial for six months."
"Valerie, you make me laugh, and make me angry at the same time, but I
can bear much from you now, for you have had a heavy blow, my poor
child. Now let's say no more on the subject; all is settled, and the
arrangement will remain a secret, unless you publish it yourself."
"I certainly shall make no secret of it, Madame Bathurst; I should be
sorry to show false colours, and be supposed by your friends to be
otherwise than what I really am. I have done nothing that I ought to be
ashamed of, and I abhor deceit. Whatever may be my position in life, I
trust that I shall never disgrace the name that I bear, and I am not the
first of a noble name who has had a reverse in fortune."
How strange that I now, for the first time in my life, began to feel
pride in my family name. I presume because when we have lost almost
everything, we cherish more that which remains to us. From the time
that Madame Bathurst had first known me till the last twenty-four hours,
not a symptom of pride had ever been discovered in me. As the
_protegee_ and adopted daughter of Madame d'Albret, with brilliant
prospects, I was all humility--now a dependent, with a salary of 100
pounds per annum, Valerie was as proud as Lucifer himself. Madame
Bathurst perceived this, and I must do her the justice to say, that she
was very guarded in her conduct towards me. She felt sympathy for me,
and treated me with more kindness, and, I may say, with more respect
than she did when I was her visitor and her equal.
The next day I informed Caroline of the change in my prospects, and of
my having accepted the office of governess--that was to say, on a six
months' trial. I pointed out to her that it would now be my duty to see
that she did not neglect her studies, and that I was determined to do
justice to Madame Bathurst's confidence reposed in me. Caroline, who
was of a very amiable and sweet disposition, replied, "That she should
always look upon me as her friend and companion, and from her love for
me, would do everything I wished," and she kept her word.
The reader will agree with me, that it was impossible for any one to
have been lowered down in position more gently than I was in this
instance. The servants never knew that I had accepted the offer of
governess, for I was invariably called Valerie by Madame Bathurst and
her niece, and was treated as I was before when a visitor to the house.
I bestowed much time upon Caroline, and taught myself daily, that I
might be more able to teach her. I went back to the elements in
everything, that I might be more capable of instructing, and Caroline
made rapid progress in music, and promised to have, in a few years, a
very fine voice. We went to town for the season, but I avoided company
as much as possible--so much so, that Madame Bathurst complained of it.
"Valerie, you do wrong not to make your appearance. You retire in such
a way that people naturally put questions to me, and ask if you are the
governess, or what you are."
"I wish them to do so, my dear madame, and I want you to reply frankly.
I am the governess, and do not like anything like concealment."
"But I cannot admit that you are what may be called a governess,
Valerie. You are a young friend staying with me, who instructs my
niece."
"That is what a governess ought to be," replied I, "a young friend who
instructs your children."
"I grant it," replied Madame Bathurst; "but I fear if you were to take
the situation in another family, you would find that a governess is not
generally so considered or so treated. I do not know any class of
people, who are more to be pitied than these young people who enter
families as governesses; not considered good enough for the
drawing-room, they are too good for the kitchen; they are treated with
_hauteur_ by the master and mistress, and only admitted, or suffered for
a time to be in their company; by the servants they are considered as
not having claims to those attentions and civilities, for which they are
paid and fed; because receiving salaries, or `wages like themselves,' as
they assert, they are not entitled in their opinion to be attended upon.
Thus are they, in most houses, neglected by all parties. Unhappy
themselves, they cause ill-will and dissension, and more servants are
dismissed, or given warning, on account of the governesses, than from
any other cause. In the drawing-room they are a check upon
conversation; in the school-room, if they do their duty, they are the
cause of discontent, pouting and tears; like the bat, they are neither
bird nor beast, and they flit about the house like ill-omens; they lose
the light-heartedness and spring of youth; become sour from continual
vexation and annoyance, and their lives are miserable, tedious, and full
of repining. I tell you this candidly; it is a harsh picture, but I
fear too true a one. With me I trust you will be happy, but you will
run a great risk if you were to change and go into another family."
"I have heard as much before, my dear madame," replied I; "but your
considerate kindness has made me forget it. I can only say that it will
be a melancholy day when I am forced to quit your roof."
Visitors announced, interrupted the conversation. I have before
mentioned the talent I had for dress, and the kindness of Madame
Bathurst, induced me to exert all that I possessed in her favour. Every
one was pleased, and expressed admiration at the peculiar elegance of
her attire, and asked who was the _modiste_ she employed, and Madame
Bathurst never failed to ascribe all the merit to me.
Time passed on rapidly, and the season was nearly over. Madame Bathurst
had explained to her most intimate friends the alteration which had
taken place in my prospects, and that I remained with her more as a
companion than in any other capacity. This procured me consideration
and respect, and I very often had invitations to parties; but I
invariably refused; except, occasionally, accepting a seat in the box at
the Opera and French plays I was content to remain quiet.
Madame Paon had, as I requested, sent me a letter of introduction to a
friend of hers, a Monsieur Gironac, who lived in Leicester Square. He
was a married man, without family. He obtained his livelihood by giving
lessons on the flute, on the guitar, and in teaching French during the
day, and at night was engaged as second violin in the orchestra of the
Opera House; so that he had many strings to his bow, besides those of
his fiddle. His wife, a pretty little lively woman, taught young ladies
to make flowers in wax, and mended lace in the evenings. They were a
very amiable and amusing couple, always at good-natured warfare with
each other, and sparring all day long, from the time they met until they
parted. Their battles were the most comical and amusing I ever
witnessed, and generally ended in roars of laughter. They received me
with the greatest kindness and consideration, treating me with great
respect, until our extreme intimacy no longer required it, and our
friendship increased more than it could have done from Caroline
expressing a wish to learn to model flowers, and becoming the pupil of
Madame Gironac. Such was the state of affairs when the London season
was over, and we once more returned to the country.
The time flew away rapidly. Madame Bathurst treated me with kindness
and respect, Caroline with affection, and I was again quite happy and
contented. I was earnest in my endeavours to improve Caroline, and
moreover had the satisfaction to feel and hear it acknowledged that my
attempts were not thrown away. I looked forward to remaining at least
till Caroline's education was complete, which it could not be under two
or three years, and feeling security for such a period I gave myself
little thought of the future, when a circumstance occurred which put an
end to all my calculations.
I have stated that Caroline was the niece of Madame Bathurst; she was
the daughter of a younger sister who had contracted an unfortunate
marriage, having eloped with a young man who had not a shilling that he
could call his own, and whose whole dependence was upon an uncle,
without a family. This imprudent match had, however, raised the
indignation of his relative, who from that moment told him he was to
expect nothing from him either before or after his death. The
consequence was that Madame Bathurst's sister and husband were in a
state of great distress, until Madame Bathurst, by exerting herself in
his behalf, procured for him a situation of 300 pounds per annum in the
Excise. Upon this sum, and the occasional presents of Madame Bathurst,
they contrived to live, but having two boys and a girl to educate,
Madame Bathurst took charge of the latter, who was Caroline, promising
that she would either establish her in life, or leave her a sufficiency
at her death. Madame Bathurst had a very large jointure, and could well
afford to save up every year for Caroline, which she had done ever since
she had taken charge of her, at seven years old. At the time that I
have been speaking of, it appeared that the uncle of the father of
Caroline died, and notwithstanding his threat bequeathed to his nephew
the whole of his large property, by which he became even more wealthy
than Madame Bathurst. The consequence was that Madame Bathurst received
a letter announcing this intelligence, and winding up with a
notification that Caroline was to be immediately taken back to her
father's house. In the letter--which I read, for Madame Bathurst, who
was in great distress, handed it to me, observing at the time, "This
concerns you as well as me and Caroline."--There were not any
expressions of gratitude for the great kindness which they had received
from her hands; it was an unkind, unfeeling letter, and I was disgusted
when I had gone through it.
"Is this all the return that you receive for what you have done for your
sister and her husband?" observed I; "the more I see of this world, the
more I hate it."
"It is indeed most selfish and unfeeling," replied Madame Bathurst:
"Caroline has been so long with me, that I have looked upon her as my
own child, and now she is to be torn from me, without the least
consideration of my feelings. It is very cruel and very ungrateful."
Madame Bathurst, after this remark, rose and left the room. As I
afterwards discovered, she replied to the letter, pointing out how long
she had had charge of Caroline, and now considered her as her daughter,
and requesting her parents to allow her to return to her after she paid
them a visit; pointing out how unkind and ungrateful it was of them to
take her away, now that their circumstances were altered, and how very
painful it would be for her if they did so. To this appeal on her part
she received a most insulting answer, in which she was requested to make
out an account of the expenses incurred for the education and
maintenance of her niece, that they might be reimbursed forthwith. On
this occasion, for the first time, I saw Madame Bathurst really angry,
and certainly not without good cause. She sent for Caroline, who as yet
had only been informed that her father and mother had succeeded to a
large inheritance, and put the letter into her hands with a copy of her
own, requesting that she would read them, watching her countenance with
the severest scrutiny as she complied with the injunction, as if to
discover if she inherited the ingratitude of her parents. Such was not
the case, for poor Caroline sunk, covered her face with her hands, and
then rushing to Madame Bathurst, fell on her knees before her, and
burying her face in her aunt's lap, cried as if her heart would break.
After a few minutes, Madame Bathurst raised up her niece, and kissed
her, saying, "I am satisfied; my dear Caroline at least is not
ungrateful. Now, my child, you must do your duty and obey your
parents--as we must part, the sooner we part the better. Valerie, will
you see that everything is ready for Caroline's going away to-morrow
morning?"
Saying this, Madame Bathurst disengaged herself from Caroline and
quitted the room. It was a long while before I could reason the poor
girl into anything like composure. I could not help agreeing with her
that the conduct of her parents was most ungracious towards Madame
Bathurst, but at the same time I pointed out to her how natural it was,
that having but one daughter, her parents should wish for her return to
their own care; that the resigning her to Madame Bathurst must have been
a severe trial to them, and that it could only be from consulting her
advantage that they could have consented to it; but notwithstanding all
that I could urge, Caroline's indignation against her parents, of whom
she knew but little, was very great, and her dislike to return home as
strong. However, there was no help for it as Madame Bathurst had
decided that she was to go, and I persuaded her to come with me and
prepare her clothes ready for packing up. We did not meet at dinner
that day, Madame Bathurst sending an excuse that she was too much out of
spirits to leave her room; Caroline and I were equally so, and we
remained where we were. In the evening, Madame Bathurst sent for me; I
found her in bed and looking very ill.
"Valerie," said she, "I wish Caroline to start early to-morrow morning,
that, as you accompany her, you may be able to return here before night.
I shall not be able to see her to-morrow morning. I must, therefore,
bid her farewell this night; bring her here, and the sooner it is over
the better."
I went for Caroline, and a bitter parting it was; I hardly know which of
the three cried the most, but after half-an-hour Madame Bathurst signed
to me to take Caroline away, which I did, and afterwards put her into
bed as soon as I could. Having remained with her till she had sobbed
herself to sleep, I went down to the servants and gave Madame Bathurst's
directions for the next morning, and then retired myself. Worn out as I
was with such a day of anxiety and distress, I could not close my eyes
for some time, reflecting upon what might be the issue of this breaking
up of the connection to myself. I had been engaged as governess to
Caroline, and I could not well expect that Madame Bathurst would wish to
retain me now that Caroline was removed from her care; neither, indeed,
would my pride permit me to accept such an offer if made, as I should
become a mere dependent on her bounty, with no services to offer in
return. That I must leave Madame Bathurst was certain, and that I must
look out for some other situation. I took it for granted that Madame
Bathurst would not permit me to leave immediately, but allow me a short
time to look out for a suitable situation; but whether I should decide
upon taking the situation of a governess after what Madame Bathurst had
told me, or what situation I should seek was the cause of much thought
and indecision. At last I could make no mind up, and decided that I
would trust to Providence, and having so far come to a conclusion, I
fell asleep.
After an early breakfast, I set off in the carriage with Caroline in
charge, and before noon, we arrived at her father's house. The servants
dressed in very gaudy liveries, ushered us into the library, where we
found her father and mother waiting to receive her. A first glance
satisfied me that they were swelled with pride at the change in their
fortunes. Caroline was not received with great cordiality. There was a
stiffness on the part of her parents which would have checked any
feelings of affection on her part, had she been inclined to show them,
which I was sorry to perceive she did not; indeed, her feelings appeared
rather those of resentment for the conduct they had shown to her aunt.
After the salutation of meeting, Caroline sat down on a sofa, opposite
to her father and mother. I remained standing, and when the pause took
place I said, "I was deputed by Madame Bathurst to convey your daughter
safe to you, and as soon as the horses are baited, I am to return home."
"Who may this person be, Caroline?" demanded her mother.
"I must apologise to Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf for not having
introduced her," replied Caroline, blushing with annoyance. "She is a
very dear friend of mine and my aunt's."
"Latterly I have been the governess of your daughter, madame," said I.
"Oh!" said the lady. "Will somebody ring the bell?"
I presumed by this somebody it was intended to convey to me that I was
to perform that office; but as they had not had the common civility to
ask me to take a chair I took no notice.
"Will you ring the bell, my dear," said the lady to her husband.
The gentleman complied; and when the servant entered the lady said,
"Show the governess into the small breakfast-room, and tell the coachman
to put up his horses and bait them. He must be round again in an hour."
The man stood with the door in his hand waiting for me to follow him.
Not a little indignant, I turned to Caroline, and said to her, "I had
better wish you good-bye now."
"Yes, indeed, Valerie, you had," replied Caroline rising from the sofa,
"for I am ashamed to look you in the face, after such treatment as you
have received. Will you," continued she, with great spirit, "accept my
apology for the behaviour of my parents towards one who is of a much
higher family, and much higher breeding than they can boast of."
"Hush! Caroline," said I; "recollect--"
"I do recollect, and shall continue to recollect, the insults to my dear
aunt in the first place, and now the insult to you, my dear Valerie,"
retorted Caroline, who then put her arms round my neck and kissed me
several times; having so done she darted from me, threw herself on the
sofa and burst into tears, while I hastened to follow the servant, to
escape from such an unpleasant scene.
I was shown into a small room, where I remained some little time,
thinking how true were Madame Bathurst's observations as to what I might
expect in the position of a governess, when a servant came in, and in a
condescending manner asked if I did not wish to have some lunch. I
replied in the negative.
"You can have a glass of wine if you choose," continued he.
"You may leave the room," I replied, calmly, "I wish for nothing."
The man went out, slamming the door, and I was again alone. I reflected
upon the scene I had just been witness to, and I own that I was
surprised at Caroline's conduct, who had always appeared so mild and
amiable; but the fact appeared to me to be, that when parents give up
their children to the care of another, they surrender at the same time
all those feelings which should exist between parent and child to the
party who undertakes the charge of them. The respect and love which by
nature belonged to them were now transferred to her aunt, to whom
Caroline was always obedient and attached. The insult to me was
resented by Caroline as if it had been offered by perfect strangers to
her; Caroline not feeling herself at all checked by filial duty. There
appeared to be little prospect of any addition to the happiness of
either of the parties by the return of Caroline to her father's house,
and how it would end I could not surmise.
At last my reverie was interrupted by the servant coming in and telling
me that the carriage was at the door. I immediately followed him and
set off on my return, during which I resolved that I would not leave my
own expectations any longer in doubt, but come immediately to an
understanding with Madame Bathurst.
As it was late when I arrived, I did not see Madame Bathurst that
evening, but she came down to breakfast the next morning, when I
informed her of all that had occurred at her sister's, and the
unceremonious manner in which I had been treated, and having done so, I
then observed, that of course I did not expect to remain with her now
that Caroline was gone, and begged she would give me her advice and
assistance in procuring another situation.
"At all events, do not be in a hurry, Valerie," replied Madame Bathurst;
"I trust you will not refuse to be my visitor until you are suited to
your liking. I will not ask you to stay with me, as I know you will
refuse, and I do not pay unnecessary compliments. And yet, why should
you not? I know you well, and am attached to you. I shall feel the
loss of Caroline severely. Why not remain?"
"Many thanks, my dear madame," replied I, "for your kind wishes and
expressions, but you know my resolution has been made to earn my own
livelihood."
"I know that; but a resolution may be altered when circumstances demand
it. Madame d'Albret was no more related to you than I am, and yet you
accepted her offer."
"I did, madame," replied I, bitterly, "and you know the result. I would
have staked my life upon her sincerity and affection, and yet how was I
cast away? With every feeling of gratitude, my dear madame, I cannot
accept your offer, for I never will put myself in a similar position a
second time."
"You do not pay me a very great compliment by that remark, Valerie,"
said Madame Bathurst somewhat harshly.
"Indeed, my dear madame, I should be sorry if anything I have said
should annoy one who has been so kind and considerate to me as you have
been; but I know that I should be miserable and unhappy if not
independent, and I never can risk a second shock, like that I received
from the conduct of Madame d'Albret. I entreat as a favour that you
will not continue the subject."
"Well, Valerie, I will not; perhaps had I been treated as you have been,
I might feel the same. What then do you propose to seek? Is it the
situation of a governess?"
"Anything in preference, my dear madame; I was sufficiently humiliated
yesterday. I should prefer that of a lady's-maid, although I hope not
to descend quite so low."
"There are so few situations for a person educated as you have been.
There is a companion for a lady, which I believe is anything but
pleasant. There is that of amanuensis, but it is seldom required. You
might certainly go out and give lessons in music, and singing, and in
the French language; but there are so many French masters and
mistresses, and for music and singing a master is always preferred, why,
I do not exactly know. However, I think something may be done when we
go to town, but till then all that we can do is to talk the matter over.
Perhaps something may turn up when we least expect it. I will,
however, now that I know your decision, make every inquiry, and give you
all the assistance in my power."