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OF WILDFELL HALL.
5
CHAPTER I.
A DISCOVERY.
You must go back with me to the autumn of 1827.
My father, as you know, was a sort of gentleman farmer in shire; and I, by his express desire, succeeded him in the same quiet occupation, not very willingly, for ambition urged me to higher aims, and self-conceit assured me that, in disregarding its voice, I was burying my talent in the earth, and hiding my light under a bushel. My mother had done her utmost to persuade me that I was capable of great achievements; but my father, who thought
