h gave him the external appearance of a
necromancer. He was of the Anabaptist persuasion, and so stern in
his conversation, that the young pupils were exposed to perpetual
terror; added to these circumstances, the failing of his daughter
became so evident, that even during school-hours she was frequently
in a state of confirmed intoxication."
In 1772, three years afterwards, when Mrs. Robinson was fourteen, her
mother, Mrs. Darby, was obliged, as a means of support, to undertake the
task of tuition.
"For this purpose, a convenient house was hired at Little Chelsea,
and furnished for a ladies' boarding-school. Assistants of every
kind were engaged, and I," says Mrs. Robinson, "was deemed worthy of
an occupation that flattered my self-love, and impressed my mind with
a sort of domestic consequence. The English language was my
department in the seminary, and I was permitted to select passages
both in prose and verse for the studies of my infant pupils; it was
also my occupation to superintend their wardrobes, to see them
dressed and undressed by the servants, or half-boarders, and to read
sacred and moral lessons on saints' days and Sunday evenings.
"Shortly after my mother had established herself at Chelsea, on a
summer's evening, as I was sitting at the window, I heard a deep
sigh, or rather groan of anguish, which suddenly attracted my
attention. The night was approaching rapidly, and I looked towards
the gate before the house, where I observed a woman, evidently
labouring under excessive affliction. I instantly descended and
approached her. She, bursting into tears, asked whether I did not
know her. Her dress was torn and filthy; she was almost naked, and
an old bonnet, which nearly hid her face, so completely disfigured
her features, that I had not the smallest idea of the person who was
then almost sinking before me. I gave her a small sum of money, and
inquired the cause of her apparent agony. She took my hand, and
pressed it to her lips. 'Sweet girl,' said she, 'you are still the
angel I ever knew you!' I was astonished. She raised her bonnet;
her fine dark eyes met mine. It was Mrs. Lorrington. I led her into
the house; my mother was not at home. I took her to my chamber, and,
with the assistance of a lady, who was our French teacher, I clothed
and comforted her.
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