A Precious Jewel Read Online Free

“Count your blessings, Theresa. At least we have a comfortable home and all our needs supplied. And we know that we will not be overworked or abused here. We know that when our working days are over, we will be looked after.”
    Theresa pulled a face.
    “You need some interest,” Priscilla said, “somethingto occupy your hands and your mind so that you will not dwell on unpleasantness. Really, there is a great deal to be thankful for. Why do you not learn to read? I have offered before to teach you. I am still willing.”
    Theresa grimaced and got to her feet. “I am going to lie down on my bed,” she said, “and sleep while I can. I will be busy enough later.”
    Priscilla remembered the feeling of being trapped, of being almost totally without options. Oh, it had not seemed quite that way at first. It had been more like a gradually tightening noose about her neck.
    She would find employment, she had thought at first. She was quite capable of being a teacher or governess or lady’s companion—or even a lesser servant. But employment agencies turned her away—she had no references. Miss Blythe was the only person she knew in London. Her father had been of a retiring disposition. They had never ventured out of the country. An advertisement placed in a newspaper had brought no response. Perhaps Miss Blythe’s address—the only one Priscilla could give—was known.
    There were no other relatives to whom Priscilla could appeal. No one, though she searched her mind desperately. There had been only Oswald beyond her own family circle. And so the day had come when she had been forced to write to Oswald to announce her intention of returning home. Perhaps, she had thought in some panic, she would be able to signal somehow to one of the gentlemen who had offeredfor her that she would now be willing to accept his hand.
    But she had been given no chance even to try. Her letter had been returned and with it a brief note from her cousin’s steward to the effect that Mr. Wentworth did not recognize any responsibility toward indigent relatives.
    She had had no home. Nowhere to go. No employment with which to sustain herself. That was when she had felt the noose tighten.
    It was also when she had made her decision. Miss Blythe had resisted. She had always been fond of her former pupil, and despite the fact that she ran a strict house and was occasionally severe with her girls, she had a warm heart. But Priscilla had known that though she would not be turned away, there would be an awkwardness about her staying indefinitely as a guest. She would earn her keep, then. Where was she to go if she decided to leave? she had asked an unhappy Miss Blythe. Onto the open street?
    Miss Blythe had finally given in after two of her girls, speaking on behalf of all of them, had asked for a private interview and had objected to the fact that they worked while Miss Priscilla Wentworth was a mere parasite in the house.
    “And they do have a point,” Miss Blythe had said when she had summoned Priscilla afterward. “I am afraid that after all you must face a hard choice, dear.You must leave or you must earn your keep here as the other girls do.”
    “I will earn my keep,” Priscilla had said calmly, feeling the noose choke her. Terror and panic had brought her close to fainting, but she had raised her chin, held on to her outer calmness, and even managed a smile.
    “I have never admired you more than I do at this moment, dear,” Miss Blythe had said, kissing her cheek—and then turning briskly to business.
    And so Priscilla had been put through the careful and rigorous training all the girls received when they first came to the house, except the elocution and deportment classes. And as with the other girls, she had begun work gradually, on a trial basis, one client only each day of the first week.
    She did not care to remember that first week.
    Finally she had made her life bearable by adjusting to it as best she could. She had always been