Sarah :: :: University of Virginia Library

EXACTLY what I apprehended, came to
pass: Sarah, anxious to exert herself for the advantage
of her employers, went beyond her
strength, was constantly at her needle or pencil,
when the cessation of school business might even
have allowed her recreation. She uniformly
declined visiting any where, except now and
then spending a day with me; her aunt's family,
pretending offence at her entering into what
they termed a servile employment, were, whenever
she chanced to see them, cold and distant;
it was not therefore likely that she could reap
much satisfaction from visiting them; her other
acquaintance had, some of them, chosen to
forget her, and the rest treated her with a
haughty familiarity, inquiring into the employments,

and lamenting the fatigues of her new
situation, sometimes mingling with these humiliating
questions and observations, oblique sarcasms
on her father; which her high sense of
filial duty could ill brook. This being the case,
she frequently undertook the business of the
other teacher, in order that she might reap the
benefit of time, which, to Sarah herself, was of
no value; that is, of no value to be employed as
usual with persons in her situation Such unwearied
application, added to little air, and less
exercise; at least proper exercise, weakened a
constitution not naturally robust, and extreme
languor, difficulty of breathing, and a hectic
cough were symptoms too alarming to be beheld
by me with indifference; but she herself treated
them lightly, and would smiling say, “I am not
sick; you want me to play the fine lady, which
would be very unbecoming in a person in my
station;” and when I have remonstrated, her
reply would be, “Dear Anne, tell me where
would be the loss of such an atom in creation as
I am? Who would miss me, except Frederic
and yourself? And to your affectionate hearts I
am only a source of constant anxiety. Unconnected
in the world as I am, my early prospects
clouded, my future ones dreary and comfortless,
what is there to make me wish existence lengthened?
Do not think me discontented, or quarrelling
with life because the path I am to tread
is not marked out exactly as I could wish it; no,
I am very sensible that I enjoy many comforts,

which thousands more deserving than myself
are deprived of; but feeling as I do, my desolate,
unprotected state, though God forbid that I
should by wilful neglect of my health, or any
other means, hasten the moment of my release;
yet I cannot form the smallest wish that its approach
should be retarded.”

Miss Darnley had, at her mother's desire, invited
Sarah to pass a few months with them at a
small house they had at Turnham Green, and
said her daughter should continue her studies at
home under her inspection; but this, from the
consideration of young Darnley's pointed assiduities,
she positively, though politely, rejected;
nor did I blame her.

Among the many who visited the school, to
inspect the improvement of pupils, whom they
had placed there, was Lady Bentley; she had two
children sent from the West-Indies to her care,
and having had some slight personal knowledge
of Sarah Osborn, during her father's prosperity,
hearing that she was the principal teacher at
Mrs. Harrop's, gave that school the preference.
This amiable and worthy woman saw with regret
the visible alteration in her interesting countenance.
“My dear young lady,” said she one day,
when they were alone in the drawing room, “you
are not well; I wish you had some situation
that would be less fatiguing, and more congenial
to your nature. Sir James Bentley was well acquainted
with your father, and regretted to me
the other day, that the daughter of his old friend

was not placed in some family of rank, where
she might meet associates, such as she has been
accustomed to, and be useful to society, by imparting
her fine talents to two or three pupils at
most, without, by incessant application, endangering
her health. Tell me, Miss Osborn,
could such a situation be found, would it meet
with your approbation?”

This was addressing Sarah, in the style which
was to lead her to whatever was desired. Tears
started to her eyes, she acknowledged Lady
Bentley's goodness; the mention of her father's
name, accompanied with expressions of respect,
was so soothing to her heart, that she readily
agreed to do whatever might be thought necessary
for the establishment of her health. A Mrs.
Beaumont, a widow lady, with two daughters,
one twelve, and the other fourteen years of age,
was going for the winter to Bath. Lady Bentley
thought it would be the very thing for Sarah;
the lady wanted a companion, who would case
her of the constant care she thought necessary
to be paid to girls of the age of her daughters.
To be with them at the hours when their masters
attended them; walk with them, visit with
them, read and work with them—all which Mrs.
Beaumont found it inconvenient to do herself, as
(though not a dissipated woman) she kept a good
deal of company, and the late hours of the preceding
evening often prevented her rising in time
to superintend their morning studies, or accompany
their morning rambles.

She was a woman of a lively disposition, conciliating
in her manners, perfectly well bred, and
not likely to make any person feel a state of dependence.
She was introduced to Sarah, was
charmed with her demeanor, and made her such
offers as were honorable to her own liberal nature,
and highly advantageous to my friend. Mrs. Harrop
was thunderstruck when she found Miss Osborn
actually intended leaving her; yet she could
not but be sensible that her health required it.
She strove to draw her into a promise to return
to her in the spring, but this Sarah was too wise
to accede to. Previous to her taking her journey,
she spent three weeks with me, and Frederic
being with us, the lively parties and excursions
he was continually contriving, helped to
restore a great portion of her health and cheerfulness.
Mr. Lewis himself was much better
pleased with his sister's situation; he had been
with her on a morning visit to Mrs. Beaumont,
and was satisfied, that she was a perfectly well-bred
woman; which to a person of a delicate
mind, is one guarantee for happiness; for it is a
certainty, no person accustomed to the forms of
good breeding, and to that suavity of manners,
which is dictated by a polished understanding, especially
when accompanied by even the smallest
portion of good nature, can be happy in the society
of ill bred persons. Of her situation
during her stay at Bath, I refer you to her own
letter, which I enclose.

ANNE.