"Not that I believe it, my dear; because I think that Mr.
Greystock has made it quite safe in that quarter." All this Lucy heard,
and never showed by a single sign, or by a motion of a muscle, that she
was in pain. Then Lady Linlithgow asked her what she meant to do after the
5th of April. "I don't see at all why you shouldn't stay here, if you like
it, Miss Morris; that is, if you have abandoned the stupid idea of an
engagement with Frank Greystock." Lucy smiled, and even thanked the
countess, and said that she had made up her mind to go back to Richmond
for a month or two, till she could get another engagement as a governess.
Then she returned to her room and sat again at her window, looking out
upon the street.
What did it matter now where she went? And yet she must go somewhere, and
do something. There remained to her the wearisome possession of herself,
and while she lived she must eat, and have clothes, and require shelter.
She could not dawdle out a bitter existence under Lady Fawn's roof, eating
the bread of charity, hanging about the rooms and shrubberies useless and
idle. How bitter to her was that possession of herself, as she felt that
there was nothing good to be done with the thing so possessed! She doubted
even whether ever again she could become serviceable as a governess, and
whether the energy would be left to her of earning her bread by teaching
adequately the few things that she knew.
Pages:
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921