FALKNER. Мэри Шелли

inquiring for an attendant to wait on Miss Falkner, during your journey to Vienna: I should be very glad if you would accept my services."

      "Are you a lady's maid, in any English family here?" asked Falkner.

      "I beg your pardon, sir," continued the little woman, primly, "I am a governess. I lived many years with a Russian lady, at St. Petersburgh; she brought me here, and is gone and left me."

      "Indeed!" exclaimed Falkner; "that seems a very unjust proceeding—how did it happen?"

      "On our arrival at Odessa, sir, the lady, who had no such notion before, insisted on converting me to her church; and because I refused, she used me, I may say, very ill; and, hiring a Greek girl, left me here quite destitute."

      "It seems that you have the spirit of a martyr," observed Falkner, smiling.

      "I do not pretend to that," she replied; "but I was born and brought up a Protestant—and I did not like to pretend to believe what I could not."

      Falkner was pleased with the answer, and looked more scrutinizingly on the applicant. She was not ugly—but slightly pitted with the small-pox—and with insignificant features; her mouth looked obstinate—and her light grey eyes, though very quick and intelligent, yet from their smallness, and the lids and brows being injured by the traces of the malady, did not redeem her countenance from an entirely common-place appearance, which might not disgust, but could not attract.

      "Do you understand," asked Falkner, "that I need a servant, and not a governess. I have no other attendant for my daughter; and you must not be above waiting on her as she has been accustomed."

      "I can make no objection," she replied; "my first wish is to get away from this place, free from expense. At Vienna I can find a situation such as I have been accustomed to—now I shall be very glad to reach Germany safely in any creditable capacity—and I shall be grateful to you, sir, if you do not consider my being destitute against me, but be willing to help a countrywoman in distress."

      There was a simplicity, though a hardness in her manner, and an entire want of pretension or affectation that pleased Falkner. He inquired concerning her abilities as a governess, and began to feel that in that capacity also, she might be useful to Elizabeth. He had been accustomed, on all convenient occasions, to hire a profusion of masters; but this desultory sort of teaching did not inculcate those habits of industry and daily application which it is the best aim of education to promote. At the same time he much feared an improper female companion for the child, and had suffered a good deal of anxiety on account of the many changes he had been forced to make. He observed the lady before him narrowly—there was nothing prepossessing, but all seemed plain and unassuming; though formal, she was direct—her words few—her voice quiet and low, without being soft or constrained. He asked her what remuneration she would expect—she said that her present aim was to get to Vienna free of expense, and she did not expect much beyond—she had been accustomed to receive eighty pounds a year as governess, but as she was to serve Miss Falkner as maid, she would only ask twenty.

      "But as I wish you to act as both," said Falkner, "we must join the two sums, and I will pay you a hundred."

      A ray of pleasure actually for a second illuminated the little woman's face; while with an unaltered tone of voice she replied: "I shall be very thankful, sir, if you think proper."

      "You must, however, understand our conditions," said Falkner. "I talk of Vienna—but I travel for my pleasure, with no fixed bourn or time. I am not going direct to Germany—I spend the winter at Constantinople. It may be that I shall linger in those parts—it may be that from Greece I shall cross to Italy. You must not insist on my taking you to Vienna: it is enough for your purpose, I suppose, if you reach a civilized part of the world, and are comfortably situated, till you find some other family going whither you desire."

      She was acquiescent. She insisted, however, with much formality, that he should make inquiries concerning her from several respectable families at Odessa; otherwise, she said, he could not fitly recommend her to any other situation. Falkner complied. Every one spoke of her in high terms, lauding her integrity and kindness of heart. "Miss Jervis is the best creature in the world," said the wife of the French Consul; "only she is English to the core—so precise, and formal, and silent, and quiet, and cold. Nothing can persuade her to do what she does not think right. After being so shamefully deserted, she might have lived in my house, or four or five others, doing nothing; but she chose to have pupils, and to earn money by teaching. This might have been merely for the sake of paying for her journey; but, besides this, we discovered that she supports some poor relation in England, and, while cast away here, she still remembered and sent remittances to one whom she thought in want. She has a heart of gold, though it does not shine."

      Pleased with this testimony, Falkner thought himself fortunate in securing her services, at the same time that he feared he should find her presence a considerable encumbrance. A servant was a cipher, but a governess must receive attention—she was an equal, who would perpetually form a third with him and Elizabeth. His reserve, his love of independence, and his regard for the feelings of another, would be perpetually at war. To be obliged to talk, when he wished to be silent; to listen to, and answer frivolous remarks; to know that at all times a stranger was there—all this seemed to him a gigantic evil; but it vanished after a few days' trial of their new companion's qualities. Whatever Miss Jervis's latent virtues might be, she thought that the chief among them was to be

      her ambition was to be unimpeachably correct in conduct. It a little jarred with her notions to be in the house of a single gentleman—but her desolate situation at Odessa allowed her no choice; and she tried to counterbalance the evil by seeing as little of her employer as possible. Brought up from childhood to her present occupation, she was moulded to its very form; and her thoughts never strayed beyond her theory of a good governess. Her methods were all straight forward—pointing steadily to one undisguised aim—no freak of imagination ever led her out of one hard, defined, unerratic line. She had no pretension, even in the innermost recess of her heart, beyond her station. To be diligent and conscientious in her task of teaching, was the sole virtue to which she pretended; and, possessed of much good sense, great integrity, and untiring industry, she succeeded beyond what could have been expected from one apparently so insignificant and taciturn.

      She was, at the beginning, limited very narrowly in the exercise of any authority over her pupil. She was obliged, therefore, to exert herself in winning influence, instead of controlling by reprimands. She took great pains to excite Elizabeth to learn; and once having gained her consent to apply to any particular study, she kept her to it with patience and perseverance; and the very zeal and diligence she displayed in teaching, made Elizabeth ashamed to repay her with an inattention that looked like ingratitude. Soon, also, curiosity, and a love of knowledge, developed itself. Elizabeth's mind was of that high order which soon found something congenial in study. The acquirement of new ideas—the sense of order, and afterwards of power—awoke a desire for improvement. Falkner was a man of no common intellect; but his education had been desultory; and he had never lived with the learned and well-informed. His mind was strong in its own elements, but these lay scattered, and somewhat chaotic. His observation was keen, and his imagination fervid; but it was inborn, uncultivated, and unenriched by any vast stores of reading. He was the very opposite of a pedant. Miss Jervis was much of the latter; but the two served to form Elizabeth to something better than either. She learned from Falkner the uses of learning: from Miss Jervis she acquired the thoughts and experience of other men. Like all young and ardent minds, which are capable of enthusiasm, she found infinite delight in the pages of ancient history: she read biography, and speedily found models for herself, whereby she measured her own thoughts and conduct, rectifying her defects, and aiming at that honour and generosity which made her heart beat, and cheeks glow, when narrated of others.

      There was another very prominent distinction between Falkner and the governess: it made a part of the system of the latter never to praise. All that she tasked her pupil to do, was a duty—when not done it was a deplorable fault—when executed, the duty was fulfilled, and she need not reproach herself,—that was all. Falkner, on the contrary, fond and eager, soon looked upon her as a prodigy; and though reserved, as far as his own emotions were concerned, he made no secret of his almost adoration