I was told that someone was wanted at Sunnyside who could do cooking. I knew enough for the place, as the family were growing up, and they kept a lot of company. I was sorry for Mrs. Brind. She told me that she would not live long. She had no relations in Adelaide, and her agitation frightened me. She gave me a key and told me to unlock a drawer, and showed me all her things ready for the last ordeal, if the worst should happen. I felt a very great coward, and very uncomfortable. What a relief I felt when the doctor said she was strong enough to go for a change, and that he hoped for good results.

I went and saw Lady Milne, and I felt a sense of gladness I was to go to Sunnyside. It was a strange change for me, but only what might happen to anyone in ordinary everyday life and amid human influences, to look on those loved faces again. I was to have skilled help for all the large parties and balls, and I turned at once to the practical duties of a cook in a gentleman\'s house. I cannot help adding here that I have been able to get my living in that capacity ever since that time, and that I will give lessons this afternoon on cookery. It was like going back to the old home. I had a good, wise, generous mistress, who would tell me to put aside the past and trust to the future. I hardly knew what I expected in the future, but I was happy there. While in this position I soon recognised that cooking did not come by nature. Even the most simple things cannot be done till they are taught. I got a cookery book. I used to puzzle half the night over them, and then I did not get the rudiments from that.

People do not always remain the same, but are continually changing. This can be said of everyone, and growing years make a great difference. While I was away from Sunnyside the family, from being children, now seemed to be men and women, most of them. This meant so much more company. As I thought I[Pg 81] could not fulfil the duties required of me, I had many painful moments, although they had patience with me. I got to dread the two caterers, who came alternately or both together. The attention they wanted was more to me than all my other work. They took such pains that I should not see anything of their skill, and I had hard toil to learn even gradually. When I had been there more than a year I felt I had learnt scarcely anything.

My brother had got married, and I knew that I had to give up all and expect nothing. For me loneliness never had any terror. No one could be less dependent on outward society than I was, yet I could enjoy it, only I never craved after it, nor was it necessary for my existence—I was one who have had always to stand alone. Perhaps the sharpest anguish is that which nobody knows of. I have been so unaccustomed, to sympathy that I can sit still and endure anything; I did everything at my own risk. I have had to work for all I have ever received, and some have done their best to hinder me, so that............