CHAPTER V
Five o'clock had hardly struck on the morning of the 19th of
January, when Bessie brought a candle into my closet and found me
already up and nearly dressed. I had risen half-an-hour before
her entrance, and had washed my face, and put on my clothes by the
light of a half-moon just setting, whose rays streamed through the
narrow window near my crib. I was to leave Gateshead that day by
a coach which passed the lodge gates at six a.m. Bessie was the
only person yet risen; she had lit a fire in the nursery, where
she now proceeded to make my breakfast. Few children can eat when
excited with the thoughts of a journey; nor could I. Bessie, having
pressed me in vain to take a few spoonfuls of the boiled milk and
bread she had prepared for me, wrapped up some biscuits in a paper
and put them into my bag; then she helped me on with my pelisse
and bonnet, and wrapping herself in a shawl, she and I left the
nursery. As we passed Mrs. Reed's bedroom, she said, "Will you go
in and bid Missis good-bye?"
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