"For three happy years I lived under that friendly roof. I was between
fifteen and sixteen years of age, when the fatal inheritance from my
mother cast its first shadow on my life. One miserable day the wife's
motherly love for me changed in an instant to the jealous hatred that
never forgives. Can you guess the reason? The husband fell in love with
me.
"I was innocent; I was blameless. He owned it himself to the clergyman
who was with him at his death. By that time years had passed. It was too
late to justify me.
"He was at an age (when I was under his care) when men are usually
supposed to regard women with tranquillity, if not with indifference. It
had been the habit of years with me to look on him as my second father.
In my innocent ignorance of the feeling which really inspired him, I
permitted him to indulge in little paternal familiarities with me, which
inflamed his guilty passion. His wife discovered him--not I. No words
can describe my astonishment and my horror when the first outbreak of
her indignation forced on me the knowledge of the truth. On my knees I
declared myself guiltless. On my knees I implored her to do justice
to my purity and my youth. At other times the sweetest and the most
considerate of women, jealousy had now transformed her to a perfect
fury. She accused me of deliberately encouraging him; she declared
she would turn me out of the house with her own hands. Like other
easy-tempered men, her husband had reserves of anger in him which it was
dangerous to provoke. When his wife lifted her hand against me, he lost
all self-control, on his side. He openly told her that life was worth
nothing to him without me. He openly avowed his resolution to go with me
when I left the house. The maddened woman seized him by the arm--I saw
that, and saw no more. I ran out into the street, panic-stricken. A
cab was passing. I got into it before he could open the house door, and
drove to the only place of refuge I could think of--a small shop, kept
by the widowed sister of one of our servants. Here I obtained shelter
for the night. The next day he discovered me. He made his vile
proposals; he offered me the whole of his fortune; he declared his
resolution, say what I might, to return the next day. That night, by
help of the good woman who had taken care of me--under cover of the
darkness, as if _I_ had been to blame!--I was secretly removed to the
East End of London, and placed under the charge of a trustworthy person
who lived, in a very humble way, by letting lodgings.
"Here, in a little back garret at the top of the house, I was thrown
again on the world--an age when it was doubly perilous for me to be left
to my own resources to earn the bread I ate and the roof that covered
me.