because I was shy and sometimes melancholy, was too bad.  At first I was for giving all up and going home.  But, after a little reflection, I determined to summon what energy I had, and to weather the storm.  I said to myself, ’I have never yet quitted a place without gaining a friend; adversity is a good school; the poor are born to labour, and the dependent to endure.’  I resolved to be patient, to command my feelings, and to take what came; the ordeal, I reflected, would not last many weeks, and I trusted it would do me good.  I recollected the fable of the willow and the oak; I bent quietly, and now, I trust, the storm is blowing over me.  Mrs. —–­ is generally considered an agreeable woman; so she is, I doubt not, in general society.  She behaves somewhat more civilly to me now than she did at first, and the children are a little more manageable; but she does not know my character, and she does not wish to know it.  I have never had five minutes’ conversation with her since I came, except while she was scolding me.  I have no wish to be pitied, except by yourself; if I were talking to you I could tell you much more.”

(TO EMILY, ABOUT THIS TIME.)

“Mine bonnie love, I was as glad of your letter as tongue can express:  it is a real, genuine pleasure to hear from home; a thing to be saved till bedtime, when one has a moment’s quiet and rest to enjoy it thoroughly.  Write whenever you can.  I could like to be at home.  I could like to work in a mill.  I could like to feel some mental liberty.  I could like this weight of restraint to be taken off.  But the holidays will come.  Coraggio.”

Her temporary engagement in this uncongenial family ended in the July of this year; not before the constant strain upon her spirits and strength had again affected her health; but when this delicacy became apparent in palpitations and shortness of breathing, it was treated as affectation—­as a phase of imaginary indisposition, which could be dissipated by a good scolding.  She had been brought up rather in a school of Spartan endurance than in one of maudlin self-indulgence, and could bear many a pain and relinquish many a hope in silence.

After she had been at home about a week, her friend proposed that she should accompany her in some little excursion, having pleasure alone for its object.  She caught at the idea most eagerly at first; but her hope stood still, waned, and had almost disappeared before, after many delays, it was realised.  In its fulfilment at last, it was a favourable specimen of many a similar air-bubble dancing before her eyes in her brief career, in which stern realities, rather than pleasures, formed the leading incidents.

   “July 26th, 1839.