canvas painting

purposeless, I required an aim; and, I suppose, by way of supplying
deficiencies, he prolonged still further my lessons in Hindostanee,
and grew more urgent in requiring their accomplishment: and I, like
a fool, never thought of resisting him- I could not resist him.
One day I had come to my studies in lower spirits than usual; the
ebb was occasioned by a poignantly felt disappointment. Hannah had
told me in the morning there was a letter for me, and when I went down
to take it, almost certain that the long-looked-for tidings were
vouchsafed me at last, I found only an unimportant note from Mr.
Briggs on business. The bitter check had wrung from me some tears; and
now, as I sat poring over the crabbed characters and flourishing
tropes of an Indian scribe, my eyes filled again.
St. John called me to his side to read; in attempting to do this my
voice failed me: words were lost in sobs. He and I were the only
occupants of the parlour: Diana was practising her music in the
drawing-room, Mary was gardening- it was a very fine May day, clear,
sunny, and breezy. My companion expressed no surprise at this emotion,
nor did he question me as to its cause; he only said-
'We will wait a few minutes, Jane, till you are more composed.' An