Produced by Eric Eldred, Clay Massei, Charles Franks, and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
Esther Waters
by
1899
She stood on the platform watching the receding train. A few bushes hidthe curve of the line; the white vapour rose above them, evaporating inthe pale evening. A moment more and the last carriage would pass out ofsight. The white gates swung forward slowly and closed over the line.
An oblong box painted reddish brown and tied with a rough rope lay on theseat beside her. The movement of her back and shoulders showed that thebundle she carried was a heavy one, the sharp bulging of the grey linencloth that the weight was dead. She wore a faded yellow dress and a blackjacket too warm for the day. A girl of twenty, short, strongly built, withshort, strong arms. Her neck was plump, and her hair of so ordinary abrown that it passed unnoticed. The nose was too thick, but the nostrilswere well formed. The eyes were grey, luminous, and veiled with darklashes. But it was only when she laughed that her face lost its habitualexpression, which was somewhat sullen; then it flowed with bright humour.She laughed now, showing a white line of almond-shaped teeth. The porterhad asked her if she were afraid to leave her bundle with her box. Both,he said, would go up together in the donkey-cart. The donkey-cart camedown every evening to fetch parcels…. That was the way to Woodview,right up the lane. She could not miss it. She would find the lodge gate inthat clump of trees. The man lingered, for she was an attractive girl, butthe station-master called him away to remove some luggage.
It was a barren country. Once the sea had crawled at high tide half-way upthe sloping sides of those downs. It would do so now were it not for theshingle bank which its surging had thrown up along the coast. Between theshingle bank and the shore a weedy river flowed and the little town stoodclamped together, its feet in the water's edge. There were decayingshipyards about the harbour, and wooden breakwaters stretched long, thinarms seawards for ships that did not come. On the other side of therailway apple blossoms showed above a white-washed wall; some marketgardening was done in the low-lying fields, whence the downs rose ingradual ascents. On the first slope there was a fringe of trees. That wasWoodview.
The girl gazed on this bleak country like one who saw it for the firsttime. She saw without perceiving, for her mind was occupied with personalconsideration. She found it difficult to decide whether she should leaveher bundle with her box. It hung heavy in her hand, and she did not knowhow far Woodview was from the station. At the end of the platform thestation-master took her ticket, and she passed over the level-crossingstill undecided. The lane began with iron railings, laurels, and Frenchwindows. She had been in service in such houses, and knew if she wereengaged in any of them what her duties would be. But the life in Woodviewwas a great dream, and she could not imagine herself accomplishing allthat would be required of her. There would be a butler, a footman, and apage; she would not mind the page—but the butler and footman, what wouldthey think? There would be an upper-housemaid and an under-housemaid, andperhaps a lady's-maid, and maybe that these ladies had been abroad withthe family. She had heard of France and Germany. Their conversation would,no doubt, turn on such subjects. Her silence would betray her. They wouldask her what situations she had been in, and when they