Among the servants at the Rectory was a remarkably pretty girl named
Ellen. She came from Devonshire, and was the daughter of a fisherman who
had been drowned when she was a child. Her mother set up a small shop in
the village where her husband had lived, and just managed to make a
living. Ellen remained with her till she was fourteen, when she first
went out to service. Four years later, when she was about eighteen, but
so well grown that she might have passed for twenty, she had been
strongly recommended to Christina, who was then in want of a housemaid,
and had now been at Battersby about twelve months.
As I have said the girl was remarkably pretty; she looked the perfection
of health and good temper, indeed there was a serene expression upon her
face which captivated almost all who saw her; she looked as if matters
had always gone well with her and were always going to do so, and as if
no conceivable combination of circumstances could put her for long
together out of temper either with herself or with anyone else. Her
complexion was clear, but high; her eyes were grey and beautifully
shaped; her lips were full and restful, with something of an Egyptian
Sphinx-like character about them.
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