dence was pronounced
enough; she had at that time never quitted her provincial home, and was
in the anomalous position of one who is intellectually outgrowing very
restricted social circumstances. The Baxendales were not wrong in
discussing her as shy. But that phase of her life was now left far
behind. Her extreme moderation was deliberate; it was her concession to
the fate which made her a governess. Courtesy and kindliness might lead
those whose bread she ate to endeavour occasionally to remove all show
of social distinction; neither her temperament nor her sense of
comeliness in behaviour would allow her to shrink from such advances,
but she could not lose sight of the unreality of the situations to which
they led. Self-respect is conditioned by the influence of circumstance
on character; in Emily it expressed itself as a subtle sensitiveness to
grades of sympathy. She could not shut her eyes to the actuality of
things; sincerity was the foundation of her being, and delicate
appreciation of its degrees in others regulated her speech and demeanour
with an exactitude inappreciable by those who take life in a rough and
ready way. When engaged in her work of teaching, she was at ease; alone
in the room which had been set apart for her, she lived in the freedom
of her instincts; but in Mrs. Rossall's drawing-room she could only act
a part, and all such divergence from reality was pain. It was not that
she resented her subordination, for she was almost devoid of social
ambitions and knew nothing of vulgar envy; still less did it come of
reasoned revolt against the artificial ordering of precedences; Emily's
thoughts did not tend that way. She could do perfect justice to the
amiable qualities of those who were set above her; she knew no
bitterness in the food which she duly earned; but, by no one's fault,
there was a vein of untruth in the life she had to lead. To remind
herself that such untruth was common to all lives, was an outcome of the
conditions of society, did not help her to disregard it; nature had
endowed her with a stern idealism which would not ally itself with
compromise. She was an artist in life. The task before her, a task of
which in these days she was growing more and more conscious, was to
construct an existence every moment of which should serve an
all-pervading harmony. The recent birth within her of a new feeling was
giving direction and vigour to the forces of her being; it had not as
yet declared i