第72部分(第4/7 页)

shed；　very　simply；　but　sufficiently；　by　the　kindness　of　a　lady；　Miss　Oliver；　the　only　daughter　of　the　sole　rich　man　in　my　parish—Mr。　Oliver；　the　proprietor　of　a　needle…　factory　and　iron…foundry　in　the　valley。　The　same　lady　pays　for　the　education　and　clothing　of　an　orphan　from　the　workhouse；　on　condition　that　she　shall　aid　the　mistress　in　such　menial　offices　connected　with　her　own　house　and　the　school　as　her　occupation　of　teaching　will　prevent　her　having　time　to　discharge　in　person。　Will　you　be　this　mistress？”

He　put　the　question　rather　hurriedly；　he　seemed　half　to　expect　an　indignant；　or　at　least　a　disdainful　rejection　of　the　offer：　not　knowing　all　my　thoughts　and　feelings；　though　guessing　some；　he　could　not　tell　in　what　light　the　lot　would　appear　to　me。　In　truth　it　was　humble—but　then　it　was　sheltered；　and　I　wanted　a　safe　asylum：　it　was　plodding—but　then；　pared　with　that　of　a　governess　in　a　rich　house；　it　was　independent；　and　the　fear　of　servitude　with　strangers　entered　my　soul　like　iron：　it　was　not　ignoble—not　unworthy—not　mentally　degrading；　I　made　my　decision。

“I　thank　you　for　the　proposal；　Mr。　Rivers；　and　I　accept　it　with　all　my　heart。”

“But　you　prehend　me？”　he　said。　“It　is　a　village　school：　your　scholars　will　be　only　poor　girls—cottagers’　children—at　the　best；　farmers’　daughters。　Knitting；　sewing；　reading；　writing；　ciphering；　will　be　all　you　will　have　to　teach。　What　will　you　do　with　your　acplishments？　What；　with　the　largest　portion　of　your　mind—　sentiments—tastes？”

“Save　them　till　they　are　wanted。　They　will　keep。”

“You　know　what　you　undertake；　then？”

“I　do。”

He　now　smiled：　and　not　a　bitter　or　a　sad　smile；　but　one　well　pleased　and　deeply　gratified。

“And　when　will　you　mence　the　exercise　of　your　function？”