forth kindness from almost any one else, she felt no pity for Fanny, but she thought that Mr. Bennett might decline fulfilling their evening engagement; and, having vented her spleen at seeing her so very lovely, thought that some show of politeness was necessary to propitiate her husband.
It was with a heavy heart that Fanny rose the next morning. The dull parapet, the gloomy roofs of the houses, was any thing but a cheering spectacle. She missed the glad sunshine, the buoyant morning air that was wont to come in from the open casement of their little cottage. The noise, to which she had been so long unaccustomed, quite bewildered her, and the gloom seemed infectious. She soon dressed, and a servant came to conduct her to the school-room, where so much of her future life was to be passed. It was a large dull room, the bars before the window giving it almost the look of a prison, and a large iron fender destroying even the cheerfulness of the fire. By that fire the two children were seated, who slowly
