Image from page 464 of "Harriet Martineau's autobiography .." (1879)
Publisher: Boston, Houghton, Osgood and Co.
Contributing Library: Cornell University Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN
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t came to me. I was waited upon in my lodging by a sickly-looking, untidylittle orphan girl of fourteen, — untidy, because the state of hereyes was such that she could not sew, or have any fair chancefor cleanliness. She was the niece and dependent of my hostess,by whom she was scolded without mercy, and, it seemed to me,incessantly. Her quiet and cheerful submission impressed me atonce; and I heard such a report of her from the lady who hadpreceded me in the lodgings, and who had known the child fromearly infancy, that I took an interest in her, and studied hercharacter from the outset. Her character was easily known ; fora more simple, upright, truthful, ingenuous child could not be.She was, in fact, as intellectually incapable as morally indisposedto deception of any kind. This was the girl Jane who recov-ered her health by mesmerism in companionship with me, andwhom I was required by the doctors, and by the Athenaeum, to**give up as an impostor, after five years household inter-
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■ve. nl ijueii. ^AA.^*. Aged 37.] MY WINDOW AT TYNEMOUTH. 445 course with her, in addition to my indirect knowledge of her,through my neighbour, from the age of three. I may mentionhere that my unvarying good opinion of her was confirmedafter the recovery of both by the experience of her householdqualities for seven years, during which period she lived with meas my cook, till she emigrated to Australia, where she has livedin high credit from the beginning of 1853 till now. This Jane,destined to so curious an experience, and to so discreditable apersecution, (which she bore in the finest spirit) was at the doorof my Tynemouth lodging when I arrived : and many were theheartaches I had for her, during the years that her muscles lookedlike dough, and her eyes like ......... I will not say what. I suffered from the untidiness of my rooms, I own; and I soonfound that my Norfolk notions of cleanliness met with noresponse at Tynemouth. Before long, I was shifted from purga-tory to paradise
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