And yet, in a state of poverty, friendlessness, and uncertainty that must have crushed the spirit of any grown-up man or woman subjected to the trial, this child could not feel sorrowful, anxious, or foreboding.
The sun was bright, the country fresh, and the motion rapid; and between the beauty of the day, the swiftness of the journey, and the shifting of the scenery, her spirits were so exhilarated that she could have sung for joy. It was rapture to watch the woods and fields, farms and hamlets, hills and valleys reel past her as the train flew onward. It was delight to stop at the strange towns, with strange streets and houses, and strange people coming and going. And it was ecstasy to rush onward again with lightning speed. And intoxication to feel that she was free!
She might be the most miserable little creature alive, but she did not know it. She might come to beggary the next day, but she did not think it. She might be rushing straight to ruin, but she did not feel it. Thus, despite of frowning Fate, the spirit in her bosom clapped its wings and crowed for joy.
And by this the reader may jump to the conclusion that Annella’s brain was slightly “touched;” that she was a little “luny;” that she had not her “right change.” Nothing of the sort, dear reader. Annella was simply undisciplined, inexperienced, and eccentric. Her ignorance was “bliss.” And so, though poor and friendless, she set forth to seek her fortune with as brave a spirit as ever inspired Richard Cœur-de-Lion, Lady Hester Stanhope, or any other knight or dame of ancient or of modern times when sallying forth in quest of adventures.
The day wore on. The afternoon was so much more sultry than the season warranted, that the weather-wise farmers in the carriage with Annella predicted the approach of one of the heaviest storms that ever shook heaven and earth. And, as if in justification of this prediction, towards evening the clouds began to gather thick, black, and lowering over the earth. The face of the country also changed. The lovely woods, fertile fields, and fruitful farms were all left far behind, and the barren heaths of the north lay all around.
And still the train rushed onward in the face of the approaching tempest. And still with undaunted spirit, Annella sped on towards her unknown fate.
One after another of her fellow-passengers left the carriage in which she travelled, until at last, at a small roadside station, Annella found herself quite alone. And at this station the guard put his head in at the door with the peremptory demand:
“Tickets!”
Annella started from her day-dream, and nervously produced hers.
“You’ve travelled thirty miles farther than you’ve any right to do with this ticket, and I’ve a great mind to give you in charge,” said the guard, angrily.