Mrs. Burnett,[23] like most women who record their childhood and adolescent
memories, is far more subjective and interesting than most men. In early
adolescence she was never alone when with flowers, but loved to "speak to
them, to bend down and say caressing things, to stoop and kiss them, to praise
them for their pretty ways of looking up at her as into the eyes of a friend and
beloved. There were certain little blue violets which always seemed to lift their
small faces childishly, as if they were saying, 'Kiss me; don't go by like that.'"
She would sit on the porch, elbows on knees and chin on hands, staring upward,
sometimes lying on the grass. Heaven was so high and yet she was a part of it
and was something even among the stars. It was a weird, updrawn,
overwhelming feeling as she stared so fixedly and intently that the earth seemed
gone, left far behind. Every hour and moment was a wonderful and beautiful
thing. She felt on speaking terms with the rabbits. Something was happening in
the leaves which waved and rustled as she passed. Just to walk, sit, lie around
out of doors, to loiter, gaze, watch with a heart fresh as a young dryad, following
birds, playing hide-and-seek with the brook-these were her halcyon hours.
With the instability of genius, Beth[24] did everything suddenly. When twelve
or thirteen, she had grown too big to be carried, pulled or pushed; she suddenly
stood still one day, when her mother, commanded her to dress. She had been
ruled before by physical force, but her will and that of her mother were now in
collision, and the latter realised she could make her do nothing unless by
persuasion or moral influence. Being constantly reproved, scolded, and even
beaten by her mother, Beth one day impulsively jumped into the sea, and was
rescued with difficulty. She had spells of being miserable with no cause. She
was well and happy, but would burst into tears suddenly, which seemed often to
surprise her. Being very sensitive herself, she was morbidly careful of the
feelings of others and incessantly committed grave sins of insincerity without
compunction in her effort to spare them. To those who confided in her abilities,
praised her, and thought she could do things, her nature expanded, but her
mother checked her mental growth over and over, instead of helping her by
saying, "Don't try, you can't do it," etc.
Just before the dawn of adolescence she had passed through a long period of
abject superstition, largely through the influence of a servant. All the old
woman's signs were very dominant in her life. She even invented methods of
divination, as, "if the boards do not creak when I walk across the room I shall get
through my lessons without trouble." She always preferred to see two rooks