Poor child, she cried afterward because Mrs. Rachael was not sorry to part with her.
What a different parting she had when leaving the Miss Donnys’ school, where for six years she had been a pupil, and for part of the time a teacher!
She received a letter informing her that she was to leave Greenleaf.
Oh, never, never, never shall I forget the emotion this letter caused in the house! It was so tender in them to care so much for me; it was so gracious in that Father who had not forgotten me, to have made my orphan way so smooth and easy, and to have inclined so many youthful natures toward me, that I could hardly bear it. Not that I would have had them less sorry—I am afraid not; but the pleasure of it, and the pain of it, and the pride and joy of it, and the humble regret of it, were so blended, that my heart seemed almost breaking while it was full of rapture.
The letter gave me only five days’ notice of my removal. When every minute added to the proofs of love and kindness that were given me in those five days; and when at last the morning came, and when they took me through all the rooms that I might see them for the last time; and when some one cried, “Esther, dear, say good-bye to me here, at my bedside, where you first spoke so kindly to me!” and when others asked me only to write their names, “With Esther’s love”; and when they all surrounded me with their parting presents, and clung to me weeping, and cried, “What shall we do when dear, dear Esther’s gone!” and when I tried to tell them how forbearing and how good they had all been to me, and how I blessed and thanked them every one—what a heart I had!
And when the two Miss Donnys grieved as much to part with me as the least among them; and when the maids said, “Bless you, miss, wherever you go!” and when the ugly lame old gardener, who I thought had hardly noticed me in all those years, came panting after the coach to give me a little nosegay of geraniums, and told me I had been the light of his eyes—indeed the old man said so!—what a heart I had then!
This was intended to show the results of her sympathy toward the pupils and everybody connected with the school.
Mrs. Jellyby is an immortal picture of the woman who neglects her family on account of her interest in Borrioboola Gha, or some other place for which her sympathy is aroused. Dickens held that a woman’s first duty is to her children. The wretched Mr. Jellyby, almost distracted by the poor meals, the disorder of his home, and the wild condition of his unfortunate family, said to his daughter, “Never have a mission, my dear.”
Caddy emphasized the thought Dickens had given in Dombey and Son through Alice Marwood when she said to Esther:
“Oh, don’t talk of duty as a child, Miss Summerson; where’s ma’s duty as a parent? All made over to the public and Africa, I suppose! Then let the public and Africa show duty as a child; it’s much more their affair than mine. You are shocked, I dare say! Very well, so am I shocked, too; so we are both shocked, and there’s an end of it!”