Villette

and she, on leaving England, had brought with her such residue furniture of the former St Ann's Street mansion, as she had thought fit to keep unsold. Hence my bewilderment at the phantoms of chairs, and the wraiths of looking glasses, tea urns, and tea cups.
    As the clock struck eleven, Dr. John stopped his mother.
    »Miss Snowe must retire now,« he said; »she is beginning to look very pale. To-morrow I will venture to put some questions respecting the cause of her loss of health. She is much changed indeed, since last July, when I saw her enact with no little spirit, the part of a very killing fine gentleman. As to last night's catastrophe, I am sure thereby hangs a tale, but we will inquire no further this evening. Good night, Miss Lucy.«
    And so, he kindly led me to the door, and holding a wax candle, lighted me up the one flight of steps.
    When I had said my prayers, and when I was undressed and laid down, I felt that I still had friends. Friends, not professing vehement attachment, not offering the tender solace of well-matched and congenial relationship; on whom, therefore, but moderate demand of affection was to be made, of whom but moderate expectation formed; but towards whom, my heart softened instinctively and yearned with an importunate gratitude, which I entreated Reason betimes to check.
    »Do not let me think of them too often, too much, too fondly,« I implored; »let me be content with a temperate draught of this living stream: let me not run athirst, and apply passionately to its welcome waters: let me not imagine in them a sweeter taste than earth's fountains know. Oh! would to God! I may be enabled to feel enough sustained by an occasional, amicable intercourse, rare, brief, unengrossing and tranquil: quite tranquil!«
    Still repeating this word, I turned to my pillow; and,
still
repeating it, I steeped that pillow with tears.
     
     
Chapter XVII
La Terrasse
    These struggles with the natural character, the strong native bent of the heart, may seem futile and fruitless, but in the end they do good. They tend, however slightly, to give the actions, the conduct, that turn which Reason approves, and which Feeling, perhaps, too often opposes: they certainly make a difference in the general tenor of a life, and enable it to be better regulated, more equable, quieter on the surface; and it is on the surface only the common gaze will fall. As to what lies below, leave that with God. Man, your equal, weak as you, and not fit to be your judge, may be shut out thence: take it to your Maker – show Him the secrets of the spirit He gave – ask Him how you are to bear the pains He has appointed – kneel in His presence, and pray with faith for light in darkness, for strength in piteous weakness, for patience in extreme need. Certainly, at some hour, though perhaps not
your
hour, the waiting waters will stir; in
some
shape, though perhaps not the shape you dreamed, which your heart loved, and for which it bled, the healing herald will descend. The cripple and the blind, and the dumb, and the possessed, will be led to bathe. Herald, come quickly! Thousands lie round the pool, weeping and despairing, to see it, through slow years, stagnant. Long are the ›times‹ of Heaven: the orbits of angel messengers seem wide to mortal vision; they may en-ring ages: the cycle of one departure and return may clasp unnumbered generations; and dust, kindling to brief suffering life, and, through pain, passing back to dust, may meanwhile perish out of memory again, and yet again. To how many maimed and mourning millions is the first and sole angel visitant, him easterns call Azrael.
    I tried to get up next morning, but while I was dressing, and at intervals drinking cold water from the
carafe
on my washstand, with design to brace up that trembling weakness which made dressing so difficult, in came Mrs. Bretton.
    »Here is an absurdity!« was her morning accost. »Not so,« she added, and dealing with me at once in her own brusque, energetic fashion – that fashion which I used formerly to enjoy seeing applied to her son, and by him vigorously resisted – in two minutes she consigned me captive to the French bed.
    »There you lie till afternoon,« said she. »My boy left orders before he went out that such should be the case, and I can assure you my son is master and must be obeyed. Presently you shall have breakfast.«
    Presently she brought that meal – brought it with her own active hands – not leaving me to