The ooze of the shore and the reek of the water, and the dreary flatness of the land around (after the glorious heaven-clad heights, which made me ashamed of littleness), also the rough, stupid stare of the men, when I went about as an American lady may freely do in America, and the sharpness of every body's voice (instead of the genial tones which those who can not produce them call "nasal," but which from a higher view are cordial)--taken one after other, or all together, these things made me think, in the first flush of thought, that England was not a nice country.

After a little while I found that I had been a great deal too quick, as foreigners are with things which require quiet comprehension.

For instance, I was annoyed at having a stupid woman put over me, as if I could not mind myself--a cook, or a nurse, or housekeeper, or something very useful in the Hockin family, but to me a mere incumbrance, and (as I thought in my wrath sometimes) a spy.
What was I likely to do, or what was any one likely to do to me, in a thoroughly civilized country, that I could not even stay in private lodgings, where I had a great deal to think of, without this dull creature being forced upon me?
But the Major so ordered it, and I gave in.
There I must have staid for the slowest three mouths ever passed without slow starvation finishing my growth, but not knowing how to "form my mind," as I was told to do.

Major Hockin came down once or twice to see me, and though I did not like him, yet it was almost enough to make me do so to see a little liveliness.

But I could not and would not put up with a frightful German baron of music, with a polished card like a toast-rack, whom the Major tried to impress on me.