Anne Bronte: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

12. CHAPTER XII (continued)

'It's nothing,' cried I, ready to stamp with vexation because the candle would not light. Then, suppressing my irritation, I added, 'I've been walking too fast, that's all. Good-night,' and marched off to bed, regardless of the 'Walking too fast! where have you been?' that was called after me from below.

My mother followed me to the very door of my room with her questionings and advice concerning my health and my conduct; but I implored her to let me alone till morning; and she withdrew, and at length I had the satisfaction to hear her close her own door. There was no sleep for me, however, that night as I thought; and instead of attempting to solicit it, I employed myself in rapidly pacing the chamber, having first removed my boots, lest my mother should hear me. But the boards creaked, and she was watchful. I had not walked above a quarter of an hour before she was at the door again.

'Gilbert, why are you not in bed - you said you wanted to go?'

'Confound it! I'm going,' said I.

'But why are you so long about it? You must have something on your mind - '

'For heaven's sake, let me alone, and get to bed yourself.'

'Can it be that Mrs. Graham that distresses you so?'

'No, no, I tell you - it's nothing.'

'I wish to goodness it mayn't,' murmured she, with a sigh, as she returned to her own apartment, while I threw myself on the bed, feeling most undutifully disaffected towards her for having deprived me of what seemed the only shadow of a consolation that remained, and chained me to that wretched couch of thorns.