AGNES GREY




CHAPTER I--THE PARSONAGE



All true histories contain instruction; though, in some, the
treasure may be hard to find, and when found, so trivial in
quantity, that the dry, shrivelled kernel scarcely compensates for
the trouble of cracking the nut. Whether this be the case with my
history or not, I am hardly competent to judge. I sometimes think
it might prove useful to some, and entertaining to others; but the
world may judge for itself. Shielded by my own obscurity, and by
the lapse of years, and a few fictitious names, I do not fear to
venture; and will candidly lay before the public what I would not
disclose to the most intimate friend.

My father was a clergyman of the north of England, who was
deservedly respected by all who knew him; and, in his younger days,
lived pretty comfortably on the joint income of a small incumbency
and a snug little property of his own. My mother, who married him
against the wishes of her friends, was a squire's daughter, and a
woman of spirit. In vain it was represented to her, that if she
became the poor parson's wife, she must relinquish her carriage and
her lady's-maid, and all the luxuries and elegancies of affluence;
which to her were little less than the necessaries of life. A
carriage and a lady's-maid were great conveniences; but, thank