Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 24: what you’re looking at

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ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS: 11 introduced to the schoolmistress ag her future pupil. From the discourse which took place between that lady and Mrs. Parks, it was evident that a negotia- tion for my admission to the seminary had already been entered into. I liked the schoolmistress—I liked the whole appearance of the place ; and more- over I longed for the settled employment which the renewal of my studies would afford me, in order that the occupation of my mind should wean me from mournful retrospections. It was agreed that I should enter as a boarder on the following day ; and I returned with Mrs. Parks to the lodg- ings. I should observe that a quantity of new apparel—but all of a mourning character —had been purchased for me since our arrival in London; and I could not help thinking that in every respect the conduct of Mrs. Parks towards me was infinitely more liberal than my grand- father’s treatment had ever been—while her man. ner lost none of the kindness she had so studiously shown me since the old man’s death. On going to bed that night, after the visit to the school, I could not immediately get to sleep. I lay awake thinking of the change which was again taking place in my position, and of the new home which I was to enter on the morrow. I thought likewise of all Mrs. Parks was doing for me: I was angry with myself for ever having fan- cied her to be at all deceitful: I reflected that she was most faithfully fulfilling the pro- mises she made to my grandfatheriin his last moments ; and I wondered why he himself should have been so far dubious of her sincerity and good faith as he evidently was, if I might judge of the terrific language in which he addressed her at the time. And then too I thought of my kind affec- tionate aunt; and I remembered with deepest emotion the last sad looks which had been shed upon me at parting by my cousin’s beautiful eyes. 1t was between eight and nine o’clock when I had thus retired to rest on the particular evening of which I am speaking ; and at length a drowsi- ness was coming over me,—when I was startled by the neighbouring church bell proclaiming the hour of ten. Immediately afterwards I heard the door of the sitting-room open on the floor beneath that where my bed-chamber was situated ; and a voice said, “Good bye, then, for the last time.” That voice completely galvanized me; and I started up in my bed. [I recognised it in a mo- ment !—it was the voice of that stranger whose visit to the house at Leeds upwards of two years back had produced such an effect upon my grandfather,—the stranger whose countenance I had seen at the window of his chamber on the night of his death! An unknown terror seized on me as I thus started up in my couch: my soul seemed smitten with an unaccountable trouble —for an ominous mystery appeared to invest that stranger. “‘ Good bye, for the last time!” were the words he had spoken. “ Hush !” T immediately heard both Mrs. Parks and her son say, as if speaking in the same breath: and then Parks himself added, “ Yes—and take care that it is for the last time: or else 4 But I heard no more: the voice appeared sud- denly to cease;—and if more were said, it must have been in the lowest possible whisper. Almost immediately afterwards I heard the front door of the house close; and then getting out of bed, I shut my own chamber door, which by an accident I had lef open. Yes—I shut it, because I did not choose that Mrs. Parks, when ascending to her own bed-room, should have reason to think that I had been listening; for she might fancy I had done so on purpose. But it was still a long time before sleep visited my eyes. I lay awake, asking myself: over and over again who that stranger could be, and what he could possibly want with Mrs. Parks and her son? Indeed, I was astounded that they should have received him at all, after the way in which she had spoken to me of his unpardonable insolence in looking in at the window on the night of my grandfather’s death— and still more especially after the opinion she had expressed that he was an evil-disposed person. Bat, as a matter of course, conjecture helped me not to any solution of the mystery; and in the midst of my bewildering ruminations I sank into slumber. On the following day I entered as a boarder at the school in the neighbourhood of Chelsea. It is not my intention to dwell at unnecessary length upon this period of my existence: but still some few brief observations are necessary. I was well treated at the school, and was as liberally supplied with pocket-money as the rest of the young ladies. Amongst them was one named Juliet Norman; and with her I became most intimate. This friendship which sprang up between us, was all the more remarkable inasmuch as her disposition was so different from mine: for whereas I was timid, bashful, reserved, and pensive, as well as exceedingly studious, she on the other hand was forward, gay, volatile, giddy, and idle. There was however nothing bad about her; and she was thoroughly good-natured. She was very hand- some, and about two years older than myself. What her parents were, I never knew while at school: for she rarely spoke of them—and I noticed that on three or four occasions some allusion was made to her father and mother in the spirit of a spiteful taunt by some of our school companions. The subject was evidently a sore one with Juliet Norman—but I could not conceive why: for that her parents were wealthy, was apparent from the fact that she herself was the best dressed young lady in the school, and she had more presents from home than apy one else. Her father and mother moreover occasionally visited her in their car- riage; and therefore I was naturally at a loss to conceive why Juliet should have any reason to be ashamed of her parentage. I never touched upon the subject in her presence; and I had not the curiosity to put a question thereon to any of the other girls, As for the friendship which sprang up between Juliet and myself—I suppose it was from the cir- cumstance that she attached herself to me almost from the very first day of my entering the school ; and being a senior girl, she had opportunities of showing me kindnesses, for which I was grateful. Though indolent herself, she did not seek to draw me away from my own studies: on the contrary, she commended my diligence—and with a sigh that was stifled in a laugh, expressed the wish that she herself resembled me. She remained two years at the school after I entered it; and then she re- turned no more—nor did I hear of her again (COUN EloOOLK mL (COU