The Story of My Childhood
77
The schools were not the best, but all that could be done for me, in or out of them, was done. I had been especially well taught to sew and liked it, but knitting was beyond me. I could not be held to it, and it was given up.
Through the confirmed invalidism of my elder sister, Dorothea, I lost her beautiful guidance, but the watchful care of my younger sister, now Mrs. Vassall, was truly pathetic. She never lost sight of my welfare, and her fine literary taste was a constant inspiration.
While thus in the midst of my various
pursuits and vocations, an accidental
turn in my wheel of fortune
changed my entire course (for a time
at least) and how much bearing, if
