oolness of some people is really quite extraordinary!
the airs they give themselves, the way in which they answer one, the
books they read! Montesquieu: "Esprit des Lois!" [takes book up which
J. has left on sofa.] I believe the man has actually taken this from the
shelf. I am sure Mr. Milliken, or her ladyship, never would. The other
day "Helvetius" was found in Mr. Howell's pantry, forsooth! It is
wonderful how he picked up French whilst we were abroad. "Esprit des
Lois!" what is it? it must be dreadfully stupid. And as for reading
"Helvetius" (who, I suppose, was a Roman general), I really can't
understand how--Dear, dear! what airs these persons give themselves!
What will come next? A footman--I beg Mr. Howell's pardon--a butler
and confidential valet lolls on the drawing-room sofa, and reads
Montesquieu! Impudence! And add to this, he follows me for the last two
or three months with eyes that are quite horrid. What can the creature
mean? But I forgot--I am only a governess. A governess is not a lady--a
governess is but a servant--a governess is to work and walk all day with
the children, dine in the school-room, and come to the drawing-room to
play the man of the house to sleep. A governess is a domestic, only her
place is not the servants' hall, and she is paid not quite so well as
the butler who serves her her glass of wine. Odious! George! Arabella!
there are those little wretches quarrelling again! [Exit. Children are
heard calling out, and seen quarrelling in garden.]

JOHN [re-entering].--See where she moves! grace is in all her steps.
'Eaven in her high--no--a-heaven in her heye, in every gesture dignity
and love--ah, I wish I could say it! I wish you may procure it, poor
fool! She passes by me--she tr-r-amples on me. Here's the chair she sets
in [kisses it.] Here's the piano she plays on. Pretty keys, them fingers
out-hivories you! When she plays on it, I stand and listen at the
drawing-room door, and my heart thr-obs in time! Fool, fool, fool! why
did you look on her, John Howell! why did you beat for her, busy heart!
You were tranquil till you knew her! I thought I could have been a-happy
with Mary till then. That girl's affection soothed me. Her conversation
didn't amuse me much, her ideers ain't exactly elevated, but they are
just and proper. Her attentions pleased me. She ever kep' the best cup
of tea for me. She crisped my buttered toast, or mixed my quiet tumbler
for me, as I sat of hevenings and read