e;notpositivelyrainy,butdarkenedbyadrizzlingyellowfog;allunderfootwasstillsoakihthefloodsofyesterday.Thestrongeramongthegirlsranaboutandengagedinactivegames,butsundrypaleandthinonesherdedtogetherforshelterandwarmthintheverandah;andamongstthese,asthedepeedtotheirshiveringframes,Iheardfrequentlythesoundofahollowcough.

    AsyetIhadspokentonoone,nordidanybodyseemtotakenotie;Istoodlonelyenough:buttothatfeelingofisolationIwasaced;itdidnotoppressmemuch.Ileantagainstapillaroftheverandah,drewmygreymantlecloseaboutme,and,tryingtetthecoldwhiippedmewithout,andtheunsatisfiedhungerwhiawedmewithin,deliveredmyselfuptotheemploymentofwatgandthinking.Myreflesweretooundefinedandfragmentarytomeritrecord:IhardlyyetknewwhereIwas;Gatesheadandmypastlifeseemedfloatedawaytoanimmeasurabledistahepresentwasvagueandstrange,andofthefutureIcouldformnojecture.Ilookedroundthevent-likegarden,andthenupatthehouse—alargebuilding,halfofwhichseemedgreyandold,theotherhalfquitehenewpart,tainingtheschoolroomanddormitory,waslitbymullionedandlatticedwindows,whichgaveitachurch-likeaspect;astoabletoverthedoorborethisinscription:—

    “LowoodInstitution.—ThisportionwasrebuiltA.D.—,byNaomiBrocklehurst,ofBrocklehurstHall,inthisty.”“Letyhtsoshinebeforemen,thattheymayseeyoodworks,andglorifyyourFatherwhichisinheaven.”—St.Matt.v.16.

    Ireadthesewordsoverandaihatanexplanationbelohem,andwasunablefullytopeetheirimport.Iwasstillpthesignificationof“Institution,”andendeavtomakeoutaebetweenthefirstwordsandtheverseofScripture