Agnes Grey by Anne Brontë

I left Horton Lodge, and went to join my mother in our new abode at A. I found her well in health, resigned in spirit, and even cheerful, though subdued and sober, in her general demeanour. We had only three boarders and half a dozen day-pupils to commence with; but by due care and diligence we hoped ere long to increase the number of both.

I set myself with befitting energy to discharge the duties of this new mode of life. I call it _new_, for there was, indeed, a considerable difference between working with my mother in a school of our own, and working as a hireling among strangers, despised and trampled upon by old and young; and for the first few weeks I was by no means unhappy. "It is possible we may meet again," and "will it be of any consequence to you whether we do or not?"-Those words still rang in my ear and rested on my heart: they were my secret solace and support. "I shall see him again.-He will come; or he will write." No promise, in fact, was too bright or too extravagant for Hope to whisper in my ear. I did not believe half of what she told me: I pretended to laugh at it all; but I was far more credulous than I myself supposed; otherwise, why did my heart leap up when a knock was heard at the front door, and the maid, who opened it, came to tell my mother a gentleman wished to see her? and why was I out of humour for the rest of the day, because it proved to be a music-master come to offer his services to our school? and what stopped my breath for a moment, when the postman having brought a couple of letters, my mother said, "Here, Agnes, this is for you," and threw one of them to me? and what made the hot blood rush into my face when I saw it was directed in a gentleman's hand? and why-oh! why did that cold, sickening sense of disappointment fall upon me, when I had torn open the cover and found it was _only_ a letter from Mary, which, for some reason or other, her husband had directed for her?