I don't think there are such miserable lives anywhere as the lives led by the poor middle classes in England.
From year's end to year's end, the one dreadful struggle to keep up appearances, and the heart-breaking monotony of an existence without change.

We lived in the back street of a cheap suburb.

I declare to you we had but one amusement in the whole long weary year--the annual concert the clergyman got up, in aid of his schools.

The rest of the year it was all teaching for the first half of the day, and needlework for the young family for the other half.

My father had religious scruples; he prohibited theatres, he prohibited dancing and light reading; he even prohibited looking in at the shop-windows, because we had no money to spare and they tempted us to buy.