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Professor, The
CHAPTER II
Charlotte Bronte
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       _ A FINE October morning succeeded to the foggy evening that had
       witnessed my first introduction to Crimsworth Hall. I was early
       up and walking in the large park-like meadow surrounding the
       house. The autumn sun, rising over the ----shire hills,
       disclosed a pleasant country; woods brown and mellow varied the
       fields from which the harvest had been lately carried; a river,
       gliding between the woods, caught on its surface the somewhat
       cold gleam of the October sun and sky; at frequent intervals
       along the banks of the river, tall, cylindrical chimneys, almost
       like slender round towers, indicated the factories which the
       trees half concealed; here and there mansions, similar to
       Crimsworth Hall, occupied agreeable sites on the hill-side; the
       country wore, on the whole, a cheerful, active, fertile look.
       Steam, trade, machinery had long banished from it all romance and
       seclusion. At a distance of five miles, a valley, opening
       between the low hills, held in its cups the great town of X----.
       A dense, permanent vapour brooded over this locality--there lay
       Edward's "Concern."
       I forced my eye to scrutinize this prospect, I forced my mind to
       dwell on it for a time, and when I found that it communicated no
       pleasurable emotion to my heart--that it stirred in me none of
       the hopes a man ought to feel, when he sees laid before him the
       scene of his life's career--I said to myself, "William, you are a
       rebel against circumstances; you are a fool, and know not what
       you want; you have chosen trade and you shall be a tradesman.
       Look!" I continued mentally--"Look at the sooty smoke in that
       hollow, and know that there is your post! There you cannot dream,
       you cannot speculate and theorize--there you shall out and
       work!"
       Thus self-schooled, I returned to the house. My brother was in
       the breakfast-room. I met him collectedly--I could not meet him
       cheerfully; he was standing on the rug, his back to the fire--how
       much did I read in the expression of his eye as my glance
       encountered his, when I advanced to bid him good morning; how
       much that was contradictory to my nature! He said "Good morning"
       abruptly and nodded, and then he snatched, rather than took, a
       newspaper from the table, and began to read it with the air of a
       master who seizes a pretext to escape the bore of conversing with
       an underling. It was well I had taken a resolution to endure for
       a time, or his manner would have gone far to render insupportable
       the disgust I had just been endeavouring to subdue. I looked at
       him: I measured his robust frame and powerful proportions; I saw
       my own reflection in the mirror over the mantel-piece; I amused
       myself with comparing the two pictures. In face I resembled him,
       though I was not so handsome; my features were less regular; I
       had a darker eye, and a broader brow--in form I was greatly
       inferior--thinner, slighter, not so tall. As an animal, Edward
       excelled me far; should he prove as paramount in mind as in
       person I must be a slave--for I must expect from him no
       lion-like generosity to one weaker than himself; his cold,
       avaricious eye, his stern, forbidding manner told me he would not
       spare. Had I then force of mind to cope with him? I did not
       know; I had never been tried.
       Mrs. Crimsworth's entrance diverted my thoughts for a moment.
       She looked well, dressed in white, her face and her attire
       shining in morning and bridal freshness. I addressed her with
       the degree of ease her last night's careless gaiety seemed to
       warrant, but she replied with coolness and restraint: her
       husband had tutored her; she was not to be too familiar with his
       clerk.
       As soon as breakfast was over Mr. Crimsworth intimated to me that
       they were bringing the gig round to the door, and that in five
       minutes he should expect me to be ready to go down with him to
       X----. I did not keep him waiting; we were soon dashing at a
       rapid rate along the road. The horse he drove was the same
       vicious animal about which Mrs. Crimsworth had expressed her
       fears the night before. Once or twice Jack seemed disposed to
       turn restive, but a vigorous and determined application of the
       whip from the ruthless hand of his master soon compelled him to
       submission, and Edward's dilated nostril expressed his triumph in
       the result of the contest; he scarcely spoke to me during the
       whole of the brief drive, only opening his lips at intervals to
       damn his horse.
       X---- was all stir and bustle when we entered it; we left the
       clean streets where there were dwelling-houses and shops,
       churches, and public buildings; we left all these, and turned
       down to a region of mills and warehouses; thence we passed
       through two massive gates into a great paved yard, and we were in
       Bigben Close, and the mill was before us, vomiting soot from its
       long chimney, and quivering through its thick brick walls with
       the commotion of its iron bowels. Workpeople were passing to and
       fro; a waggon was being laden with pieces. Mr. Crimsworth looked
       from side to side, and seemed at one glance to comprehend all
       that was going on; he alighted, and leaving his horse and gig to
       the care of a man who hastened to take the reins from his hand,
       he bid me follow him to the counting-house. We entered it; a
       very different place from the parlours of Crimsworth Hall--a
       place for business, with a bare, planked floor, a safe, two high
       desks and stools, and some chairs. A person was seated at one of
       the desks, who took off his square cap when Mr. Crimsworth
       entered, and in an instant was again absorbed in his occupation
       of writing or calculating--I know not which.
       Mr, Crimsworth, having removed his mackintosh, sat down by the
       fire. I remained standing near the hearth; he said presently--
       "Steighton, you may leave the room; I have some business to
       transact with this gentleman. Come back when you hear the bell."
       The individual at the desk rose and departed, closing the door as
       he went out. Mr. Crimsworth stirred the fire, then folded his
       arms, and sat a moment thinking, his lips compressed, his brow
       knit. I had nothing to do but to watch him--how well his
       features were cut! what a handsome man he was! Whence, then, came
       that air of contraction--that narrow and hard aspect on his
       forehead, in all his lineaments?
       Turning to me he began abruptly:-
       "You are come down to ----shire to learn to be a tradesman?"
       "Yes, I am."
       "Have you made up your mind on the point? Let me know that at
       once."
       "Yes."
       "Well, I am not bound to help you, but I have a place here
       vacant, if you are qualified for it. I will take you on trial.
       What can you do? Do you know anything besides that useless trash
       of college learning--Greek, Latin, and so forth?"
       "I have studied mathematics."
       "Stuff! I dare say you have."
       "I can read and write French and German."
       "Hum!" He reflected a moment, then opening a drawer in a desk
       near him took out a letter, and gave it to me.
       "Can you read that?" he asked.
       It was a German commercial letter; I translated it; I could not
       tell whether he was gratified or not--his countenance remained
       fixed.
       "It is well;" he-said, after a pause, "that you are acquainted
       with something useful, something that may enable you to earn your
       board and lodging: since you know French and German, I will take
       you as second clerk to manage the foreign correspondence of the
       house. I shall give you a good salary--90l. a year--and now," he
       continued, raising his voice, "hear once for all what I have to
       say about our relationship, and all that sort of humbug! I must
       have no nonsense on that point; it would never suit me. I shall
       excuse you nothing on the plea of being my brother; if I find you
       stupid, negligent, dissipated, idle, or possessed of any faults
       detrimental to the interests of the house, I shall dismiss you as
       I would any other clerk. Ninety pounds a year are good wages,
       and I expect to have the full value of my money out of you;
       remember, too, that things are on a practical footing in my
       establishment--business-like habits, feelings, and ideas, suit
       me best. Do you understand?"
       "Partly," I replied. "I suppose you mean that I am to do my work
       for my wages; not to expect favour from you, and not to depend on
       you for any help but what I earn; that suits me exactly, and on
       these terms I will consent to be your clerk."
       I turned on my heel, and walked to the window; this time I did
       not consult his face to learn his opinion: what it was I do not
       know, nor did I then care. After a silence of some minutes he
       recommenced:--
       "You perhaps expect to be accommodated with apartments at
       Crimsworth Hall, and to go and come with me in the gig. I wish
       you, however, to be aware that such an arrangement would be quite
       inconvenient to me. I like to have the seat in my gig at liberty
       for any gentleman whom for business reasons I may wish to take
       down to the hall for a night or so. You will seek out lodgings
       in X----."
       Quitting the window, I walked back to the hearth.
       "Of course I shall seek out lodgings in X----," I answered. "It
       would not suit me either to lodge at Crimsworth Hall."
       My tone was quiet. I always speak quietly. Yet Mr. Crimsworth's
       blue eye became incensed; he took his revenge rather oddly.
       Turning to me he said bluntly--
       "You are poor enough, I suppose; how do you expect to live till
       your quarter's salary becomes due?"
       "I shall get on," said I.
       "How do you expect to live?" he repeated in a louder voice.
       "As I can, Mr. Crimsworth."
       "Get into debt at your peril! that's all," he answered. "For
       aught I know you may have extravagant aristocratic habits: if
       you have, drop them; I tolerate nothing of the sort here, and I
       will never give you a shilling extra, whatever liabilities you
       may incur--mind that."
       "Yes, Mr. Crimsworth, you will find I have a good memory."
       I said no more. I did not think the time was come for much
       parley. I had an instinctive feeling that it would be folly to
       let one's temper effervesce often with such a man as Edward. I
       said to myself, "I will place my cup under this continual
       dropping; it shall stand there still and steady; when full, it
       will run over of itself--meantime patience. Two things are
       certain. I am capable of performing the work Mr. Crimsworth has
       set me; I can earn my wages conscientiously, and those wages are
       sufficient to enable me to live. As to the fact of my brother
       assuming towards me the bearing of a proud, harsh master, the
       fault is his, not mine; and shall his injustice, his bad feeling,
       turn me at once aside from the path I have chosen? No; at least,
       ere I deviate, I will advance far enough to see whither my career
       tends. As yet I am only pressing in at the entrance--a strait
       gate enough; it ought to have a good terminus." While I thus
       reasoned, Mr. Crimsworth rang a bell; his first clerk, the
       individual dismissed previously to our conference,
       re-entered.
       "Mr. Steighton," said he, "show Mr. William the letters from
       Voss, Brothers, and give him English copies of the answers; he
       will translate them."
       Mr. Steighton, a man of about thirty-five, with a face at once
       sly and heavy, hastened to execute this order; he laid the
       letters on the desk, and I was soon seated at it, and engaged in
       rendering the English answers into German. A sentiment of keen
       pleasure accompanied this first effort to earn my own living--a
       sentiment neither poisoned nor weakened by the presence of the
       taskmaster, who stood and watched me for some time as I wrote. I
       thought he was trying to read my character, but I felt as secure
       against his scrutiny as if I had had on a casque with the visor
       down-or rather I showed him my countenance with the confidence
       that one would show an unlearned man a letter written in Greek;
       he might see lines, and trace characters, but he could make
       nothing of them; my nature was not his nature, and its signs were
       to him like the words of an unknown tongue. Ere long he turned
       away abruptly, as if baffled, and left the counting-house; he
       returned to it but twice in the course of that day; each time he
       mixed and swallowed a glass of brandy-and-water, the materials
       for making which he extracted from a cupboard on one side of the
       fireplace; having glanced at my translations--he could read both
       French and German--he went out again in silence. _