nude oil painting

'How can she bear it so quietly- so firmly?' I asked of myself.
'Were I in her place, it seems to me I should wish the earth to open
and swallow me up. She looks as if she were thinking of something
beyond her punishment- beyond her situation: of something not round
her nor before her. I have heard of day-dreams- is she in a
day-dream now? Her eyes are fixed on the floor, but I am sure they
do not see it- her sight seems turned in, gone down into her heart:
she is looking at what she can remember, I believe; not at what is
really present. I wonder what sort of a girl she is- whether good or
naughty.'
Soon after five P.M. we had another meal, consisting of a small mug
of coffee, and half a slice of brown bread. I devoured my bread and
drank my coffee with relish; but I should have been glad of as much
more- I was still hungry. Half an hour's recreation succeeded, then
study; then the glass of water and the piece of oat-cake, prayers, and
bed. Such was my first day at Lowood.