I was secretly annoyed, feeling that my stepmother's singular indifference to domestic interests of paramount importance, at other times, must have some object in view, entirely beyond the reach of my penetration.

If I had dared to commit such an act of rudeness, I should have jumped out of the carriage, and have told Mrs.Roylake that I meant to walk home.
The day was Sunday.

I loitered about the garden, listening to the distant church-bell ringing for the afternoon service.

Without any cause that I knew of to account for it, I was so restless that nothing I could do attracted me or quieted me.
Returning to the house, I tried to occupy myself with my collection of insects, sadly neglected of late.

Useless! My own moths failed to interest me.
I went back to the garden.