In this state of mind I spent the long hours of bumping,
swinging coach that carried me to the stopping place at which I
was to be met by a vehicle from the house. This convenience,
I was told, had been ordered, and I found, toward the close
of the June afternoon, a commodious fly in waiting for me.
Driving at that hour, on a lovely day, through a country to which
the summer sweetness seemed to offer me a friendly welcome,
my fortitude mounted afresh and, as we turned into the avenue,
encountered a reprieve that was probably but a proof of the point
to which it had sunk. I suppose I had expected, or had dreaded,
something so melancholy that what greeted me was a good surprise.
I remember as a most pleasant impression the broad, clear front,
its open windows and fresh curtains and the pair of maids
looking out; I remember the lawn and the bright flowers and
the crunch of my wheels on the gravel and the clustered treetops
over which the rooks circled and cawed in the golden sky.
The scene had a greatness that made it a different affair from
my own scant home, and there immediately appeared at the door,
with a little girl in her hand, a civil person who dropped me as decent
a curtsy as if I had been the mistress or a distinguished visitor.
I had received in Harley Street a narrower notion of the place,
and that, as I recalled it, made me think the proprietor still
more of a gentleman, suggested that what I was to enjoy might be
something beyond his promise.

I had no drop again till the next day, for I was carried
triumphantly through the following hours by my introduction
to the younger of my pupils. The little girl who accompanied
Mrs. Grose appeared to me on the spot a creature so charming
as to make it a great fortune to have to do with her.