faintly blowing. I abandoned it and framed a humbler supplication. For change, stimulus. That petition, too, seemed swept off into vague space. ‘Then,’ I cried, half desperate, ‘grant me at least a new servitude!’
Here a bell, ringing the hour of supper, called me downstairs.
I was not free to resume the interrupted chain of my reflections till bedtime; even then a teacher who occupied the same room with me kept me from the subject to which I longed to recur, by a prolonged effusion of small talk. How I wished sleep would silence her! It seemed as if, could I but go back to the idea which had last entered my mind as I stood at the window, some inventive suggestion would rise for my relief.
Miss Gryce snored at last. She was a heavy Welsh-woman, and till now her habitual nasal strains had never been regarded by me in any other light than as a nuisance. To-night I hailed the first deep notes with satisfaction. I was debarrassed of interruption; my half-effaced thought instantly revived.
‘A new servitude! There is something in that,’ I soliloquised (mentally, be it understood; I did not talk aloud). ‘I know there is, because it does not sound too sweet. It is not like such words as Liberty, Excitement, Enjoyment: delightful sounds truly, but no more than sounds for me, and so hollow and fleeting that it is mere waste of time to listen to them. But Servitude! That must be matter of fact. Anyone may serve. I have served here eight years; now all I want is to serve elsewhere. Can I not get so much of my own will? Is not the thing feasible? Yes – yes – the end is not so difficult, if I had only a brain active enough to ferret out the means of attaining it.’
I sat up in bed by way of arousing this said brain. It was a chilly night; I covered my shoulders with a shawl, and then I proceeded to think again with all my might.
‘What do I want? A new place, in a new house, amongst new faces, under new circumstances. I want this because it is of no use wanting anything better. How do people do to get a new place? They apply to friends, I suppose. I have no friends. There are many others who have no friends, who must look about for themselves and be their own helpers; and what is their resource?’
I could not tell: nothing answered me. I then ordered my brain to find a response, and quickly. It worked and worked faster. I felt the pulses throb in my head and temples; but for nearly an hour it worked in chaos, and no result came of its efforts. Feverish with vain labour, I got up and took a turn in the room, undrew the curtain, noted a star or two, shivered with cold, and again crept to bed.
A kind fairy, in my absence, had surely dropped the required suggestion on my pillow, for as I lay down it came quietly and naturally to my mind: ‘Those who want situations advertise: you must advertise in the —shire Herald.’
‘How? I know nothing about advertising.’
Replies rose smooth and prompt now –
‘You must inclose the advertisement and the money to pay for it under a cover directed to the editor of the Herald. You must put it, the first opportunity you have, into the post at Lowton. Answers must be addressed to J. E. at the post-office there. You can go and inquire, in about a week after you send your letter, if any are come, and act accordingly.’
This scheme I went over twice, thrice; it was then digested in my mind; I had it in a clear, practical form: I felt satisfied, and fell asleep.
With earliest day, I was up: I had my advertisement written, inclosed, and directed before the bell rang to rouse the school; it ran thus:–
‘A young lady accustomed to tuition’ (had I not been a teacher two years?) ‘is desirous of meeting with a situation in a private family where the children are under fourteen’ (I thought that as I was barely eighteen, it would not do to undertake the guidance of pupils nearer my own age). ‘She is qualified to teach the usual branches of a good English education, together with French, Drawing, and Music’ (in those days, reader, this now narrow catalogue of accomplishments would have been held tolerably comprehensive). ‘Address J. E., Post-office, Lowton, —shire.’