I was to go
to his house to spend a week or more, attend a Drawing-Room, and show
myself at a few great parties in a proper manner, this being considered
my duty toward my relatives. These, I believe, were secretly afraid that
if I were never seen their world would condemn my guardian for
neglect of his charge, or would decide that I was of unsound mind and
intentionally kept hidden away at Muircarrie. He was an honorable man,
and his wife was a well-meaning woman. I did not wish to do them an
injustice, so I paid them yearly visits and tried to behave as they
wished, much as I disliked to be dressed in fine frocks and to wear
diamonds on my little head and round my thin neck.
It was an odd thing that this time I found I did not dread the visit
to London as much as I usually did. For some unknown reason I became
conscious that I was not really reluctant to go. Usually the thought
of the days before me made me restless and low-spirited. London always
seemed so confused and crowded, and made me feel as if I were being
pushed and jostled by a mob always making a tiresome noise. But this
time I felt as if I should somehow find a clear place to stand in, where
I could look on and listen without being bewildered. It was a curious
feeling; I could not help noticing and wondering about it.
I knew afterward that it came to me because a change was drawing near.
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