Meanwhile, the girl of sixteen exercised her incompetence in the
meaner departments of domestic life, and Miss Shepperson did all the work
that required care or common-sense, the duties of nursemaid alone taking a
great deal of her time. On the whole, this employment seemed to suit her;
she had a look of improved health, enjoyed more equable spirits, and in her
manner showed more self-confidence. Once a month she succeeded in getting a
few hours' holiday, and paid a visit to one or the other of her sisters;
but to neither of them did she tell the truth regarding her position in the
house at Hammersmith. Now and then, when every one else under the roof was
asleep, she took from a locked drawer in her bedroom a little account-book,
and busied herself with figures. This she found an enjoyable moment; it was
very pleasant indeed to make the computation of what the Rymers owed to
her, a daily-growing debt of which the payment could not now be long
delayed. She did not feel quite sure with regard to the interest, but the
principal of the debt was very easily reckoned, and it would make a nice
little sum to put by. Certainly Miss Shepperson was not unhappy.
Mrs. Rymer was just able to resume her normal habits, to write many
letters, teach her children, pay visits in distant parts of London--the
care of the baby being still chiefly left to Miss Shepperson--when, on a
pleasant day of spring, a little before lunch-time, Mr.
Pages:
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304