Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Charlotte, Emily, Anne Brontë (Illustrated)

Free Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Charlotte, Emily, Anne Brontë (Illustrated) by Elizabeth Gaskell, Emily Brontë, Charlotte Brontë, Anne Brontë, PATRICK BRONTE Page B

Book: Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Charlotte, Emily, Anne Brontë (Illustrated) by Elizabeth Gaskell, Emily Brontë, Charlotte Brontë, Anne Brontë, PATRICK BRONTE Read Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Gaskell, Emily Brontë, Charlotte Brontë, Anne Brontë, PATRICK BRONTE
no!  I wish it did: she has to answer to Mr. Brocklehurst for all she does.  Mr. Brocklehurst buys all our food and all our clothes.”
    “Does he live here?”
    “No — two miles off, at a large hall.”
    “Is he a good man?”
    “He is a clergyman, and is said to do a great deal of good.”
    “Did you say that tall lady was called Miss Temple?”
    “Yes.”
    “And what are the other teachers called?”
    “The one with red cheeks is called Miss Smith; she attends to the work, and cuts out — for we make our own clothes, our frocks, and pelisses, and everything; the little one with black hair is Miss Scatcherd; she teaches history and grammar, and hears the second class repetitions; and the one who wears a shawl, and has a pocket-handkerchief tied to her side with a yellow ribband, is Madame Pierrot: she comes from Lisle, in France, and teaches French.”
    “Do you like the teachers?”
    “Well enough.”
    “Do you like the little black one, and the Madame — -? — I cannot pronounce her name as you do.”
    “Miss Scatcherd is hasty — you must take care not to offend her; Madame Pierrot is not a bad sort of person.”
    “But Miss Temple is the best — isn’t she?”
    “Miss Temple is very good and very clever; she is above the rest, because she knows far more than they do.”
    “Have you been long here?”
    “Two years.”
    “Are you an orphan?”
    “My mother is dead.”
    “Are you happy here?”
    “You ask rather too many questions.  I have given you answers enough for the present: now I want to read.”
    But at that moment the summons sounded for dinner; all re-entered the house.  The odour which now filled the refectory was scarcely more appetising than that which had regaled our nostrils at breakfast: the dinner was served in two huge tin-plated vessels, whence rose a strong steam redolent of rancid fat.  I found the mess to consist of indifferent potatoes and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed and cooked together.  Of this preparation a tolerably abundant plateful was apportioned to each pupil.  I ate what I could, and wondered within myself whether every day’s fare would be like this.
    After dinner, we immediately adjourned to the schoolroom: lessons recommenced, and were continued till five o’clock.
    The only marked event of the afternoon was, that I saw the girl with whom I had conversed in the verandah dismissed in disgrace by Miss Scatcherd from a history class, and sent to stand in the middle of the large schoolroom.  The punishment seemed to me in a high degree ignominious, especially for so great a girl — she looked thirteen or upwards.  I expected she would show signs of great distress and shame; but to my surprise she neither wept nor blushed: composed, though grave, she stood, the central mark of all eyes.  “How can she bear it so quietly — so firmly?” I asked of myself.  “Were I in her place, it seems to me I should wish the earth to open and swallow me up.  She looks as if she were thinking of something beyond her punishment — beyond her situation: of something not round her nor before her.  I have heard of day-dreams — is she in a day-dream now?  Her eyes are fixed on the floor, but I am sure they do not see it — her sight seems turned in, gone down into her heart: she is looking at what she can remember, I believe; not at what is really present.  I wonder what sort of a girl she is — whether good or naughty.”
    Soon after five p.m. we had another meal, consisting of a small mug of coffee, and half-a-slice of brown bread.  I devoured my bread and drank my coffee with relish; but I should have been glad of as much more — I was still hungry.  Half-an-hour’s recreation succeeded, then study; then the glass of water and the piece of oat-cake, prayers, and bed.  Such was my first day at Lowood.

CHAPTER VI
     
    The next day commenced as before, getting up and dressing by rushlight; but this morning we were obliged to dispense with the

Similar Books

Thoreau in Love

John Schuyler Bishop

3 Loosey Goosey

Rae Davies

The Testimonium

Lewis Ben Smith

Consumed

Matt Shaw

Devour

Andrea Heltsley

Organo-Topia

Scott Michael Decker

The Strangler

William Landay

Shroud of Shadow

Gael Baudino