CHAPTER XXIII. AN EVENING OUT.

efashioninwhichyoutreatMissShirleyKeeldarandeveryotheryoungladywhocomestoourhouse.AndRosethereissuchanaut—aut—Ihaveforgottentheword,butitmeansamachineintheshapeofahumanbeing.However,betweenyou,youwilldriveeverysoulawayfromBriarmainsMartinoftensaysso." "Iamanautomaton?Good!Letmealone,then,"saidRose,speakingfromacornerwhereshewassittingonthecarpetatthefootofabookcase,withavolumespreadopenonherknee.—"MissHelstone,howdoyoudo?"sheadded,directingabriefglancetothepersonaddressed,andthenagaincastingdownhergray,remarkableeyesonthebookandreturningtothestudyofitspages. Carolinestoleaquietgazetowardsher,dwellingonheryoung,absorbedcountenance,andobservingacertainunconsciousmovementofthemouthassheread—amovementfullofcharacter.Carolinehadtact,andshehadfineinstinct.ShefeltthatRoseYorkewasapeculiarchild—oneoftheuniquesheknewhowtotreather.Approachingquietly,shekneltonthecarpetatherside,andlookedoverherlittleshoulderatherbook.ItwasaromanceofMrs.Radcliffe's—"TheItalian." Carolinereadonwithher,makingnoremark.PresentlyRoseshowedhertheattentionofasking,eresheturnedtheleaf,"Areyouready?" Carolineonlynodded. "Doyoulikeit?"inquiredRoseerelong. "Longsince,whenIreaditasachild,Iwaswonderfullytakenwithit." "Why?" "Itseemedtoopenwithsuchpromise—suchforebodingofamoststrangetaletobeunfolded." "AndinreadingityoufeelasifyouwerefarawayfromEngland—reallyinItaly—underanothersortofsky—thatblueskyofthesouthwhichtravellersdescribe." "Youaresensibleofthat,Rose?" "Itmakesmelongtotravel,MissHelstone." "Whenyouareawoman,perhaps,youmaybeabletogratifyyourwish." "Imeantomakeawaytodoso,ifoneisnotmadeforme.IcannotlivealwaysinBriarfield.Thewholeworldisnotverylargecomparedwithcreation.Imustseetheoutsideofourownroundplanet,atleast." "Howmuchofitsoutside?" "Firstthishemispherewherewelivethentheother.Iamresolvedthatmylifeshallbealife.Notablacktrancelikethetoad's,buriedinmarblenoralong,slowdeathlikeyoursinBriarfieldrectory." "Likemine!whatcanyoumean,child?" "Mightyounotaswellbetediouslydyingasforevershutupinthatglebe-house—aplacethat,whenIpassit,alwaysremindsmeofawindowedgrave?Ineverseeanymovementaboutthedoor.Ineverhearasoundfromthewall.Ibelievesmokeneverissuesfromthechimneys.Whatdoyoudothere?" "Isew,Iread,Ilearnlessons." "Areyouhappy?" "ShouldIbehappywanderingaloneinstrangecountriesasyouwishtodo?" "Muchhappier,evenifyoudidnothingbutwander.Remember,however,thatIshallhaveanobjectinviewbutifyouonlywentonandon,likesomeenchantedladyinafairytale,youmightbehappierthannow.Inaday'swanderingyouwouldpassmanyahill,wood,andwatercourse,eachperpetuallyalteringinaspectasthesunshoneoutorwasovercastastheweatherwaswetorfair,darkorbright.NothingchangesinBriarfieldrectory.Theplasteroftheparlourceilings,thepaperonthewalls,thecurtains,carpets,chairs,arestillthesame." "Ischangenecessarytohappiness?" "Yes." "Isitsynonymouswithit?" "Idon'tknowbutIfeelmonotonyanddeathtobealmostthesame." HereJessiespoke. "Isn'tshemad?"sheasked. "But,Rose,"pursuedCaroline,"Ifearawanderer'slife,formeatleast,wouldendlikethattaleyouarereading—indisappointment,vanity,andvexationofspirit." "Does'TheItalian'soend?" "IthoughtsowhenIreadit." "Bettertotryallthingsandfindallemptythantotrynothingandleaveyourlifeablank.Todothisistocommitthesinofhimwhoburiedhistalentinanapkin—despicablesluggard!" "Rose,"observedMrs.Yorke,"solidsatisfactionisonlytoberealizedbydoingone'sduty." "Right,mother!AndifmyMasterhasgivenmetentalents,mydutyistotradewiththem,andmakethemtentalentsmore.Notinthedustofhouseholddrawersshallthecoinbeinterred.Iwillnotdeposititinabroken-spoutedteapot,andshutitupinachinaclosetamongtea-things.Iwillnotcommitittoyourwork-tabletobesmotheredinpilesofwoollenhose.Iwillnotprisonitinthelinenpresstofindshroudsamongthesheets.Andleastofall,mother"(shegotupfromthefloor)—"leastofallwillIhideitinatureenofcoldpotatoes,toberangedwithbread,butter,pastry,andhamontheshelvesofthelarder." Shestopped,thenwenton,"Mother,theLordwhogaveeachofusourtalentswillcomehomesomeday,andwilldemandfromallanaccount.Theteapot,theoldstocking-foot,thelinenrag,thewillow-patterntureenwillyielduptheirbarrendepositinmanyahouse.Sufferyourdaughters,atleast,toputtheirmoneytotheexchangers,thattheymaybeenabledattheMaster'scomingtopayHimHisownwithusury." "Rose,didyoubringyoursamplerwithyou,asItoldyou?" "Yes,mother." "Sitdown,anddoalineofmarking." Rosesatdownpromptly,andwroughtaccordingtoorders.Afterabusypauseoftenminutes,hermotherasked,"Doyouthinkyourselfoppressednow—avictim?" "No,mother." "Yet,asfarasIunderstoodyourtirade,itwasaprotestagainstallwomanlyanddomesticemployment." "Youmisunderstoodit,mother.Ishouldbesorrynottolearntosew.Youdorighttoteachme,andtomakemework." "Eventothemendingofyourbrothers'stockingsandthemakingofsheets?" "Yes." "Whereistheuseofrantingandspoutingaboutit,then?" "AmItodonothingbutthat?Iwilldothat,andthenIwilldomore.Now,mother,Ihavesaidmysay.Iamtwelveyearsoldatpresent,andnottillIamsixteenwillIspeakagainabouttalents.ForfouryearsIbindmyselfanindustriousapprenticetoallyoucanteachme." "Youseewhatmydaughtersare,MissHelstone,"observedMrs.Yorke"howprecociouslywiseintheirownconceits!'Iwouldratherthis,Ipreferthat'—suchisJessie'scuckoosongwhileRoseutterstheboldercry,'Iwill,andIwillnot!'" "Irenderareason,motherbesides,ifmycryisbold,itisonlyheardonceinatwelvemonth.Abouteachbirthdaythespiritmovesmetodeliveroneoraclerespectingmyowninstructionandmanagement.Iutteritandleaveititisforyou,mother,tolistenornot." "Iwouldadviseallyoungladies,"pursuedMrs.Yorke,"tostudythecharactersofsuchchildrenastheychancetomeetwithbeforetheymarryandhaveanyoftheirowntoconsiderwellhowtheywouldliketheresponsibilityofguidingthecareless,thelabourofpersuadingthestubborn,theconstantburdenandtaskoftrainingthebest." "Butwithloveitneednotbesoverydifficult,"interposedCaroline."Motherslovetheirchildrenmostdearly—almostbetterthantheylovethemselves." "Finetalk!verysentimental!Thereistherough,practicalpartoflifeyettocomeforyou,youngmiss." "But,Mrs.Yorke,ifItakealittlebabyintomyarms—anypoorwoman'sinfant,forinstance—IfeelthatIlovethathelplessthingquitepeculiarly,thoughIamnotitsmother.Icoulddoalmostanythingforitwillingly,ifitweredeliveredoverentirelytomycare—ifitwerequitedependentonme." "Youfeel!Yes,yes!Idaresay,now.Youareledagreatdealbyyourfeelings,andyouthinkyourselfaverysensitivepersonage,nodoubt.Areyouawarethat,withalltheseromanticideas,youhavemanagedtotrainyourfeaturesintoanhabituallylackadaisicalexpression,bettersuitedtoanovel-heroinethantoawomanwhoistomakeherwayintherealworldbydintofcommonsense?" "NoIamnotatallawareofthat,Mrs.Yorke." "Lookintheglassjustbehindyou.Comparethefaceyouseetherewiththatofanyearly-rising,hard-workingmilkmaid." "Myfaceisapaleone,butitisnotsentimentalandmostmilkmaids,howeverredandrobusttheymaybe,aremorestupidandlesspracticallyfittedtomaketheirwayintheworldthanIam.Ithinkmore,andmorecorrectly,thanmilkmai