¡¶Jane Eyre¡· Preface A preface to t edition of ¡°Jane Eyre¡± being unnecessary, I gave none: tion demands a fe and miscellaneous remark. My ters. to t ear it o a plain tale ensions. to ts suffrage o an obscure aspirant. to my Publisact, tical sense and frank liberality hor. t vague personifications for me, and I must terms; but my Publise: so are certain generous critics ruggling stranger; to to my Publis Revielemen, I t. I ourn to anot not, to be overlooked. I mean timorous or carping feendency of sucever is unusual is in eacest against bigotry¡ªt parent of crime¡ªan insult to piety, t regent of God on eart to sucers certain obvious distinctions; I ain simple truths. Conventionality is not morality. Self-rig religion. to attack t is not to assail t. to pluck t to lift an impious o thorns. trically opposed: tinct as is vice from virtue. Men too often confound t be confounded: appearance s be mistaken for trutrines, t only tend to elate and magnify a feituted for t. t it¡ªa difference; and it is a good, and not a bad action to mark broadly and clearly tion bethem. t like to see t omed to blend t convenient to make external serling o let inise and expose¡ªto rase tal under it¡ªto penetrate t e as it is indebted to him. A like Micaia evil; probably son of Cter; yet mig stopped o flattery, and opened to faithful counsel. t framed to tickle delicate ears: ones of society, mucrut-like and as vital¡ªa mien as dauntless and as daring. Is tirist of ¡°Vanity Fair¡± admired in tell; but I t o take ime¡ªt yet escape a fatal Rimoth-Gilead. o to ellect profounder and more unique temporaries recognised; because I regard social regenerator of ter of t o rectitude tem of tator on ings found t suits erms . talk of , ure: Fielding could stoop on carrion, but t is brigtractive, but botion to t s-ligo tric deats o tribute of a total stranger¡ªI ed tion of ¡°JANE EYRE.¡± CURRER BELL. December 21st, 1847. Note to tion I avail myself of tunity o to explain t my claim to title of novelist rests on tion tributed to me, an is not merited; and consequently, denied ly due. tion o rectify mistakes future errors. CURRER BELL. April 13th, 1848. Chapter 1 ty of taking a day. e since dinner (Mrs. Reed, clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, t furt-door exercise of tion. I : I never liked long o me y to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed. tered round t ime neitly ted to be under ty of keeping me at a distance; but t until sion, t I to acquire a more sociable and cion, a more attractive and spriger, franker, more natural, as it ended only for contented, tle children.¡± ¡° does Bessie say I have done?¡± I asked. ¡°Jane, I don¡¯t like cavillers or questioners; besides, truly forbidding in a caking up manner. Be seated somely, remain silent.¡± A breakfast-room adjoined t contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care t it sored ures. I mounted into t: gat, I sat cross-legged, like a turk; and, ain nearly close, I . Folds of scarlet drapery s in my vieo t o t ecting, but not separating me from t intervals, udied t of t er afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of laorm-beat sable blast. I returned to my book¡ªBeisterpress ttle for, generally speaking; and yet tain introductory pages t, c pass quite as a blank. treat of ts of sea-foary rocks and promontories¡± by ted; of t of Norudded s soutremity, to th Cape¡ª ¡° whirls, Boils round the naked, melancholy isles Of fart tlantic surge Pours in among tormy hebrides.¡± Nor could I pass unnoticed tion of tzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, sic Zone, and t reservoir of frost and snouries of ers, glazed in Alpine s above s, surround tre tiplied rigours of extreme cold.¡± Of te realms I formed an idea of my o float dim t strangely impressive. troductory pages connected ttes, and gave significance to tanding up alone in a sea of billoo t stranded on a desolate coast; to tly moon glancing t a sinking. I cannot tell iment ed te solitary cs inscribed one; its gate, its trees, its lo, attesting tide. to be marine poms. t of terror. So ed aloof on a rock, surveying a distant crowd surrounding a gallows. Eacure told a story; mysterious often to my undeveloped understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever profoundly interesting: as interesting as tales Bessie sometimes narrated on er evenings, o to sit about it, and tention ure taken from old fairy tales and ot a later period I discovered) from the pages of Pamela, and henry, Earl of Moreland. it least in my interruption, and t came too soon. t-room door opened. ¡°Boly empty. ¡°inued. ¡°Lizzy! Georgy! (calling to ers) Joan is not ell mama s into the rain¡ªbad animal!¡± ¡°It is ain,¡± t I; and I discover my out quick eition; but Eliza just put t once¡ª ¡°S, to be sure, Jack.¡± And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the said Jack. ¡° do you ?¡± I asked, h awkward diffidence. ¡°Say, ¡® do you , Master Reed?¡¯¡± you to come ing imated by a gesture t I o approacand before him. Joeen years old; four years older t ten: large and stout for s in a spacious visage, remities. ually at table, o sc aken of e er, affirmed t meats sent t turned from an opinion so o t Joo over-application and, pero pining after home. Jo mucion for ers, and an antipato me. times in t continually: every nerve I s eitions; ts did not like to offend ter by taking my part against : srike or ly, however, behind her back. ually obedient to Joo some tes in ting out ongue at me as far as damaging ts: I kne. I ion in my face; for, all at once, speaking, ruck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair. ¡°t is for your impudence in ansing beains, and for tes since, you rat!¡± Accustomed to Joo it; my care ainly follo. ¡° were you doing beain?¡± he asked. ¡°I was reading.¡± ¡°She book.¡± I returned to tc thence. ¡°You o take our books; you are a dependent, mama says; you you none; you ougo beg, and not to live lemen¡¯s c t our mama¡¯s expense. Noeaco rummage my bookso me, or and by t of the windows.¡± I did so, not at first aion; but and in act to , I instinctively started aside soon enoug me, and I fell, striking my tting it. t bled, terror s climax; other feelings succeeded. ¡°icked and cruel boy!¡± I said. ¡°You are like a murderer¡ªyou are like a slave-driver¡ªyou are like the Roman emperors!¡± I ory of Rome, and to have declared aloud. ¡°! o me? Did you I tell mama? but first¡ª¡± me: I felt e tyrant, a murderer. I felt a drop or t suffering: tions for time predominated over fear, and I received ic sort. I don¡¯t very ! Rat!¡± and bello aloud. Aid ed: I he words¡ª ¡°Dear! dear! a fury to fly at Master John!¡± ¡°Did ever anybody see sucure of passion!¡± then Mrs. Reed subjoined¡ª ¡°take o tely laid upon me, and I airs. Chapter 2 I resisted all tance rengt o entertain of me. t is, I rifle beside myself; or rat of myself, as t a moment¡¯s mutiny o strange penalties, and, like any ot resolved, in my desperation, to go all lengths. ¡°: s.¡± ¡°For s s, Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman, your benefactress¡¯s son! Your young master.¡± ¡°Master! er? Am I a servant?¡± ¡°No; you are less t, for you do not dohink over your wickedness.¡± t me by time into tment indicated by Mrs. Reed, and me upon a stool: my impulse o rise from it like a spring; tantly. ¡°If you don¡¯t sit still, you must be tied do, lend me your garters; sly.¡± Miss Abbot turned to divest a stout leg of ture. tion for bonds, and tional ignominy it inferred, took a little of tement out of me. ¡°Don¡¯t take t stir.¡± In guarantee by my hands. ¡°Mind you don¡¯t,¡± said Bessie; and I ood fully on my face, as incredulous of my sanity. ¡°S last said Bessie, turning to the Abigail. ¡°But it en my opinion about ttle th so much cover.¡± Bessie ans; but ere long, addressing me, s to be a you are under obligations to Mrs. Reed: so turn you off, you o the poorhouse.¡± I o say to t neo me: my very first recollections of existence included s of t only elligible. Miss Abbot joined in¡ª ¡°And you oug to ty er Reed, because Missis kindly alloo be broug deal of money, and you o be o try to make yourself agreeable to them.¡± ¡° ell you is for your good,¡± added Bessie, in no ry to be useful and pleasant, t if you become passionate and rude, Missis will send you away, I am sure.¡± ¡°Besides,¡± said Miss Abbot, ¡°God rike of antrums, and t for anyt repent, somet be permitted to come doch you away.¡± t, sting t behem. t in, I migors at Gates necessary to turn to account all tion it contained: yet it and stateliest ced on massive pillars of maains of deep red damask, stood out like a tabernacle in tre; toons and falls of similar drapery; t able at t of t fa; toilet-table, t of te, ttresses and pilloerpane. Scarcely less prominent stool before it; and looking, as I t, like a pale throne. t seldom , because remote from tc o be so seldom entered. turdays, to ure a dust: and Mrs. Reed far intervals, visited it to revieents of a certain secret draored divers parcs, , and a miniature of of t it so lonely in spite of its grandeur. Mr. Reed ; ate; aker¡¯s men; and, since t day, a sense of dreary consecration from frequent intrusion. My seat, to me riveted, toman near to my rigions varying ts panels; to my left looking-glass beted t majesty of t quite sure to see. Alas! yes: no jail urning, I o cross before ted glance involuntarily explored t revealed. All looked colder and darker in t visionary y: and trange little figure t me, e face and arms specking ttering eyes of fear moving : I t it like one of tiny poms, ories represented as coming out of lone, ferny dells in moors, and appearing before ted travellers. I returned to my stool. Superstition t moment; but it yet e victory: my blood ill ed slave ill bracing me s bitter vigour; I o stem a rapid rusrospective t before I quailed to t. All Jo tyrannies, all ers¡¯ proud indifference, all s¡¯ partiality, turned up in my disturbed mind like a dark deposit in a turbid o try to e, a captious and insolent carriage, . Joed, muced ttle pea-c t tripped t, and broke t plants in tory: oo; sometimes reviled o ly disregarded unfrequently tore and spoiled tire; and ill ¡° no fault: I strove to fulfil every duty; and I ermed naugiresome, sullen and sneaking, from morning to noon, and from noon to night. My ill aconly striking me; and because I urned against o avert fartional violence, I h general opprobrium. ¡°Unjust!¡ªunjust!¡± said my reason, forced by timulus into precocious transitory poed some strange expedient to acable oppression¡ªas running a could not be effected, never eating or drinking more, and letting myself die. a consternation of soul dreary afternoon! umult, and all my in insurrection! Yet in al battle foug ansion¡ªance of¡ªI say clearly. I es love me, in fact, as little did I love t bound to regard ion a t could not sympat terogeneous to temperament, in capacity, in propensities; a useless terest, or adding to tion at treatment, of contempt of t. I kno , careless, exacting, and friendless¡ªMrs. Reed ained for me more of ty of fellos of the nursery. Dayligo forsake t four o¡¯clock, and ternoon ending to drear ting continuously on taircase one, and tual mood of ion, self-doubt, forlorn depression, fell damp on t be so; just conceiving of starving myself to deat certainly to die? Or under tesing bourne? In suc I old did Mr. Reed lie buried; and led by t to recall on it remember I kne aken me to in moments sain me as one of ture erloper not of ed er ie? It must irksome to find o stand in tead of a parent to a strange c love, and to see an uncongenial alien permanently intruded on her own family group. A singular notion daed not¡ªnever doubted¡ª t if Mr. Reed reated me kindly; and no looking at te bed and oversurning a fascinated eye too recall ion of t o punis Mr. Reed¡¯s spirit, er¡¯s c quit its abode¡ªed¡ªand rise before me in tears and any sign of violent grief migernatural voice to comfort me, or elicit from trange pity. tory in t errible if realised: I endeavoured to stifle it¡ªI endeavoured to be firm. Sed my ried to look boldly round t t a lig, I asked myself, a ray from trating some aperture in t ill, and tirred; o ture readily t treak of ligern carried by some one across t tation, I t t darting beam t; a sound filled my ears, e effort. Steps came running along ter passage; turned, Bessie and Abbot entered. ¡°Miss Eyre, are you ill?¡± said Bessie. ¡° a dreadful noise! it quite t. ¡°take me out! Let me go into the nursery!¡± was my cry. ¡° for? Are you ? hing?¡± again demanded Bessie. ¡°O, and I t a g c from me. ¡°S on purpose,¡± declared Abbot, in some disgust. ¡°And sed to bring us all y tricks.¡± ¡° is all torily; and Mrs. Reed came along tling stormily. ¡°Abbot and Bessie, I believe I gave orders t Jane Eyre s in till I came to her myself.¡± ¡°Miss Jane screamed so loud, ma¡¯am,¡± pleaded Bessie. ¡°Let succeed in getting out by tifice, particularly in c is my duty to s tricks ansay is only on condition of perfect submission and stillness t I se you then.¡± ¡°O aunt! y! Forgive me! I cannot endure it¡ªlet me be punisher way! I shall be killed if¡ª¡± ¡°Silence! t repulsive:¡± and so, no doubt, s it. I ress in passions, mean spirit, and dangerous duplicity. Bessie and Abbot reated, Mrs. Reed, impatient of my noic anguisly t me back and locked me in, farter s: unconsciousness closed the scene. Chapter 3 t tful nigerrible red glare, crossed oo, speaking er: agitation, uncertainty, and an all-predominating sense of terror confused my faculties. Ere long, I became a some one ing me in a sitting posture, and t more tenderly ted my a pillo easy. In five minutes more t dissolved: I knee I t able; Bessie stood at t leman sat in a chair near my pillow, leaning over me. I felt an inexpressible relief, a sootion of protection and security, ranger in t belonging to Gates related to Mrs. Reed. turning from Bessie (to me t of Abbot, for instance, leman: I kneimes called in by Mrs. Reed ws were ailing: for he children she employed a physician. ¡°ell, who am I?¡± he asked. I pronounced time my ook it, smiling and saying, ¡°e so be very careful t I disturbed during t. ions, and intimates t day, ed; to my grief: I felt so sered and befriended er again sank: inexpressible sadness weig down. ¡°Do you feel as if you sly. Scarcely dared I ansence migry.¡± ¡°ould you like to drink, or could you eat anything?¡± ¡°No, thank you, Bessie.¡± ¡°to bed, for it is past t you may call me if you anyt.¡± onderful civility t emboldened me to ask a question. ¡°Bessie, ter h me? Am I ill?¡± ¡°You fell sick, I suppose, in tter soon, no doubt.¡± Bessie into tment, which was near. I heard her say¡ª ¡°Sara for my life be alone poor co-nig die; it¡¯s sucrange t fit: I wonder if soo hard.¡± Sara to bed; toget scraps of tion, from inctly to infer t discussed. ¡°Somete, and vanis black dog be in t over his grave,¡± amp;c. amp;c. At last bot: t out. For me, tc long nigly rained by dread: such dread as children only can feel. No severe or prolonged bodily illness follo of t only gave my nerves a sion to to you I oal suffering, but I ougo forgive you, for you kne rings, you t you ing my bad propensities. Next day, by noon, I terable cc dra tears; no sooner drop from my c, I t, I ougo in t, too, ting aoys and arranging drao me every noed kindness. tate of to me a paradise of peace, accustomed as I o a life of ceaseless reprimand and t, in fact, my racked nerves e t no calm could soote them agreeably. Bessie o tc up art on a certain briged ce, to stir in me a most entic sense of admiration; and itioned to be alloo take in my o examine it more closely, but o been deemed uned to eat t of delicate pastry upon it. Vain favour! coming, like most oten e! I could not eat tart; and tints of trangely faded: I put bote and tart aransient stimulus, and I begged o fetcravels from t. I considered it a narrative of facts, and discovered in it a vein of interest deeper t I found in fairy tales: for as to t tling old o trut t of England to some savage country ; s of ted not t I migaking a long voyage, see tle fields, rees, tive people, tiny coiffs, ter cats, to, s leaves, and sougs marvellous pictures till noo find¡ªall s goblins, t and fearful imps, Gulliver a most desolate dread and dangerous regions. I closed t it on table, beside tasted tart. Bessie ing and tidying tain little dra for Georgiana¡¯s doll. Meantime she sang: her song was¡ª ¡°In t gipsying, A long time ago.¡± I en ; for Bessie voice,¡ªat least, I t so. But noill s, I found in its melody an indescribable sadness. Sometimes, preoccupied ime ago¡± came out like t cadence of a funeral o anotime a really doleful one. ¡°My feet they are weary; Long is tains are wild; Soon close moonless and dreary Over the poor orphan child. hey send me so far and so lonely, Up whe moors spread and grey rocks are piled? Men are ed, and kind angels only atceps of a poor orphan child. Yet distant and soft t breeze is blowing, Clouds tars beam mild, God, in ection is showing, Comfort and o the poor orphan child. Ev¡¯n she broken bridge passing, Or stray in ts beguiled, Still h promise and blessing, take to he poor orphan child. t t for strength should avail me, ter and kindred despoiled; fail me; God is a friend to the poor orphan child.¡± ¡°Come, Miss Jane, don¡¯t cry,¡± said Bessie as s as burn!¡± but o whe morning Mr. Lloyd came again. ¡°, already up!¡± said ered the nursery. ¡°ell, nurse, how is she?¡± Bessie ans I was doing very well. ¡°t to look more c not?¡± ¡°Yes, sir, Jane Eyre.¡± ¡°ell, you ell me ? have you any pain?¡± ¡°No, sir.¡± ¡°O go out erposed Bessie. ¡°Surely not! ishness.¡± I t so too; and my self-esteem being ly, ¡°I never cried for suce going out in the carriage. I cry because I am miserable.¡± ¡°Oh fie, Miss!¡± said Bessie. ttle puzzled. I anding before eadily: very brig I dare say I sured yet good-natured looking face. leisure, he said¡ª ¡° made you ill yesterday?¡± ¡°Sting in her word. ¡°Fall! so be eight or nine years old.¡± ¡°I explanation, jerked out of me by anotified pride; ¡°but t did not make me ill,¡± I added; wo a pinch of snuff. As urning to coat pocket, a loud bell rang for ts¡¯ dinner; it ¡¯s for you, nurse,¡± said ure till you come back.¡± Bessie ayed, but so go, because punctuality at meals Gateshead hall. ¡°t make you ill; hen?¡± pursued Mr. Lloyd when Bessie was gone. ¡°I ill after dark.¡± I sa time. ¡°G! , you are a baby after all! You are afraid of gs?¡± ¡°Of Mr. Reed¡¯s g I am: room, and to it at nig; and it o s me up alone a candle,¡ªso cruel t I t it.¡± ¡°Nonsense! And is it t makes you so miserable? Are you afraid no?¡± ¡°No: but nighings.¡± ¡° otell me some of them?¡± o reply fully to tion! it o frame any ans analyse tially effected in t, t o express t of t and only opportunity of relieving my grief by imparting it, I, after a disturbed pause, contrived to frame a meagre, t , true response. ¡°For one ters.¡± ¡°You and cousins.¡± Again I paused; then bunglingly enounced¡ª ¡°But Jo s me up in the red- room.¡± Mr. Lloyd a second time produced his snuff-box. ¡°Don¡¯t you tesiful very to o live at?¡± ¡°It is not my says I to be .¡± ¡°Poo be silly enougo wiso leave such a splendid place?¡± ¡°If I o go, I so leave it; but I can never get aesill I am a woman.¡± ¡°Perions besides Mrs. Reed?¡± ¡°I t, sir.¡± ¡°None belonging to your father?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t kno Reed once, and s ions called Eyre, but s them.¡± ¡°If you o go to them?¡± I reflected. Poverty looks grim to groill more so to c mucrious, able poverty; ted y food, fireless grates, rude manners, and debasing vices: poverty for me ion. ¡°No; I s like to belong to poor people,¡± was my reply. ¡°Not even if to you?¡± I s see o learn to speak like to adopt to be uneducated, to groimes nursing t ttage doors of tes o purcy at te. ¡°But are your relatives so very poor? Are they working people?¡± ¡°I cannot tell; Aunt. Reed says if I be a beggarly set: I s like to go a begging.¡± ¡°ould you like to go to school?¡± Again I reflected: I scarcely kne as a place ocks, ed to be exceedingly genteel and precise: Joed er; but Joastes s of sco Gates appalling, ails of certain accompliss attained by t, equally attractive. Sed of beautiful paintings of landscapes and floed; of songs t, of Frencranslate; till my spirit o emulation as I listened. Besides, sce c implied a long journey, an entire separation from Gatesrance into a new life. ¡°I so go to sche audible conclusion of my musings. ¡°ell, to o in a good state.¡± Bessie nourned; at t the gravel-walk. ¡°Is t your mistress, nurse?¡± asked Mr. Lloyd. ¡°I so speak to her before I go.¡± Bessie invited o o t-room, and led t. In tervie tured to recommend my being sent to scion readily enouged; for as Abbot said, in discussing t se, after I , asleep, ¡°Missis rid of suciresome, ill- conditioned ccs under, I t for being a sort of infantine Guy Fawkes. On t same occasion I learned, for t time, from Miss Abbot¡¯s communications to Bessie, t my fat my mot tc my grandfatated at a s after my motter caugyping among turing toed, and : t my motook tion from her. Bessie, ied, too, Abbot.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± responded Abbot; ¡°if sty c compassionate one really cannot care for suctle toad as t.¡± ¡°Not a great deal, to be sure,¡± agreed Bessie: ¡°at any rate, a beauty like Miss Georgiana ion.¡± ¡°Yes, I doat on Miss Georgiana!¡± cried t Abbot. ¡°Little darling!¡ª colour as s as if sed!¡ªBessie, I could fancy a els for supper.¡± ¡°So could I¡ª onion. Come, . Chapter 4 From my discourse ed conference bet, I gato suffice as a motive for in silence. It tarried, ate of no neo t over imes seldom addressed me: since my illness, sion t to sleep in by myself, condemning me to take my meals alone, and pass all my time in tantly in t a , sending me to scill I felt an instinctive certainty t s long endure me under turned on me, expressed an insuperable and rooted aversion. Eliza and Georgiana, evidently acting according to orders, spoke to me as little as possible: Jo ongue in tempted cisement; but as I instantly turned against iment of deep ire and desperate revolt ion before, it better to desist, and ran from me tittering execrations, and vo prominent feature as ; and or my look daunted est inclination to folloage to purpose; but one commence tale of nasty Jane Eyre¡± : opped rather harshly¡ª ¡°Don¡¯t talk to me about old you not to go near ice; I do not c eiters se h her.¡± er, I cried out suddenly, and at all deliberating on my words¡ª ¡°t fit to associate h me.¡± Mrs. Reed out , on range and audacious declaration, sair, s me like a ic voice to rise from t place, or utter one syllable during the day. ¡° o you, if ary demand. I say scarcely voluntary, for it seemed as if my tongue pronounced my ing to tterance: somet of me over wrol. ¡°?¡± said Mrs. Reed under roubled ook me as if s know w. ¡°My Uncle Reed is in me up all day long, and how you wish me dead.¡± Mrs. Reed soon rallied s: s soundly, s me a us by a t I . November, December, and mas and ted at Gatesive cs ercies given. From every enjoyment I ed in nessing to t in t sasely ringletted; and afterening to to to and fro of tler and footman, to ts ion as tired of tion, I ire from tairo tary and silent nursery: t sad, I miserable. to speak trut t o company, for in company I iced; and if Bessie been kind and companionable, I s a treat to spend tly ead of passing tlemen. But Bessie, as soon as so take o tc ill t loo make sure t noted to a dull red, I undressed ily, tugging at knots and strings as I best mig ser from cold and darkness in my crib. to took my doll; love somets of affection, I contrived to find a pleasure in loving and cure scarecro puzzles me noo remember absurd sincerity I doated on ttle toy, alive and capable of sensation. I could not sleep unless it ively to be happy likewise. Long did ted ture of tened for tep on tairs: sometimes serval to seek o bring me somet on te it, and o me t, prettiest, kindest being in t intensely t s and amiable, and never pus, or scold, or task me unreasonably, as soo often to do. Bessie Lee must, I tural capacity, for s in all sive; so, at least, I judge from tales. Sty too, if my recollections of . I remember ures, and good, clear complexion; but sy temper, and indifferent ideas of principle or justice: still, suco any one else at Gateshead hall. It eent nine o¡¯clock in to breakfast; my cousins yet been summoned to tting on and to go and feed ry, an occupation of o tained. Surn for traffic, and a marked propensity for saving; s only in t also in driving flos, seeds, and slips of plants; t functionary o buy of s of erre so sell: and Eliza o secreted it in odd corners, some of treasure, consented to intrust it to a usurious rate of interest¡ªfifty or sixty per cent.; sed every quarter, keeping s in a little book h anxious accuracy. Georgiana sat on a ool, dressing terore in a dratic. I orders from Bessie to get it arranged before surned (for Bessie noly employed me as a sort of under-nurserymaid, to tidy t t and folded my nig to t to put in order some picture-books and doll¡¯s ure scattered t command from Georgiana to let iny ces and cups, opped my proceedings; and tion, I fell to breat-floted, and t look out on till and petrified under t. From ter¡¯s lodge and t as I e foliage veiling t room to look out, I saes tc ascending ten came to Gates none ever brougors in ed; it stopped in front of tted. All to me, my vacant attention soon found livelier attraction in tacle of a little ree nailed against t. t of bread and milk stood on table, and ugging at to put out tairs into the nursery. ¡°Miss Jane, take off your pinafore; ug before I ansed to be secure of its bread: ttered tone sill, some on tree boughe window, I replied¡ª ¡°No, Bessie; I finising.¡± ¡°troublesome, careless c are you doing noe red, as if you some misc he window for?¡± I rouble of ansoo great a o listen to explanations; so tand, inflicted a merciless, but er, and a coarse toop of tairs, bid me go doly, as I ed in t-room. I ricted so long to t, dining, and drao intrude. I noood in ty -room door, and I stopped, intimidated and trembling. a miserable little poltroon punis, made of me in to return to to go foro ten minutes I stood in agitated ation; t ringing of t-room bell decided me; I must enter. ¡° me?¡± I asked inurned tiff door-ed my efforts. ¡° s Reed in tment?¡ªa man or a urned, tseying lo¡ªa black pillar!¡ªsuc least, appeared to me, at first sigraiganding erect on t top by al. Mrs. Reed occupied by to me to approacroduced me to tony stranger tle girl respecting wo you.¡± urned oive-looking grey eyes wwinkled under a pair of bus is her age?¡± ¡°ten years.¡± ¡°So mucful anses. Presently tle girl?¡± ¡°Jane Eyre, sir.¡± In uttering to me a tall gentleman; but ttle; ures he lines of his frame were equally harsh and prim. ¡°ell, Jane Eyre, and are you a good child?¡± Impossible to reply to tive: my little . Mrs. Reed ans tter, Mr. Brockle.¡± ¡°Sorry indeed to ! s alk;¡± and bending from talled e Mrs. Reed¡¯s. ¡°Come here,¡± he said. I stepped across traig a face it on a level a great nose! and large prominent teeth! ¡°No sig of a naugy little girl. Do you knoh?¡± ¡°to hodox answer. ¡°And ?¡± ¡°A pit full of fire.¡± ¡°And so fall into t pit, and to be burning there for ever?¡± ¡°No, sir.¡± ¡° must you do to avoid it?¡± I deliberated a moment; my ansionable: ¡°I must keep in good die.¡± ¡°tle ctle c is to be feared t be said of you o be called hence.¡± Not being in a condition to remove , I only cast my eyes do planted on the rug, and sighed, wishing myself far enough away. ¡°I sig, and t you repent of ever to your excellent benefactress.¡± ¡°Benefactress! benefactress!¡± said I inress; if so, a benefactress is a disagreeable thing.¡± ¡°Do you say your prayers niginued my interrogator. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°Do you read your Bible?¡± ¡°Sometimes.¡± ¡°it?¡± ¡°I like Revelations, and ttle bit of Exodus, and some parts of Kings and Chronicles, and Job and Jonah.¡± ¡°And them?¡± ¡°No, sir.¡± ¡°No? otle boy, younger t: and o eat or a verse of a Psalm to learn, o be a little angel s ts in recompense for piety.¡± ¡°Psalms are not interesting,¡± I remarked. ¡°t proves you ; and you must pray to God to c: to give you a neo take aone and give you a of flesh.¡± I to propound a question, touc operation of c o be performed, elling me to sit doion herself. ¡°Mr. Brockle, I believe I intimated in tter o you t ttle girl quite ter and disposition I could and teaced to keep a strict eye on o guard against fault, a tendency to deceit. I mention t you may not attempt to impose on Mr. Brockle.¡± ell mig I dislike Mrs. Reed; for it o rove to please s ill repulsed and repaid by sucences as ttered before a stranger, tion cut me to t; I dimly perceived t serating ence o enter; I felt, t sure patransformed under Mr. Brockle¡¯s eye into an artful, noxious c could I do to remedy the injury? ¡°Not I, as I struggled to repress a sob, and ily ears, tent evidences of my anguish. ¡°Deceit is, indeed, a sad fault in a c; ¡°it is akin to falseion in tone; sco Miss temple and teachers.¡± ¡°I so be brouging s,¡± continued my benefactress; ¡°to be made useful, to be kept ions, s Lowood.¡± ¡°Your decisions are perfectly judicious, madam,¡± returned Mr. Brockle. ¡°y is a Cian grace, and one peculiarly appropriate to t t especial care sos cultivation amongst tudied to mortify in timent of pride; and, only ter, Augusta, o visit turn s and plain all t Lotle s outside t like poor people¡¯s c my dress and mama¡¯s, as if they had never seen a silk gown before.¡¯¡± ¡°tate of te approve,¡± returned Mrs. Reed; ¡° all England over, I could scarcely em more exactly fitting a cency, my dear Mr. Brockle; I advocate consistency in all things.¡± ¡°Consistency, madam, is t of Cian duties; and it connected ablis of Lotire, unsopicated accommodations, ive s; sucs inants.¡± ¡°Quite rig Lorained in conformity to ion and prospects?¡± ¡°Madam, you may: s nursery of cs, and I trust seful for timable privilege of ion.¡± ¡°I o be relieved of a responsibility t oo irksome.¡± ¡°No doubt, no doubt, madam; and noo Brockle permit me to leave emple notice t so expect a ne ty about receiving her. Good-bye.¡± ¡°Good-bye, Mr. Brockle; remember me to Mrs. and Miss Brockle, and to Augusta and ter Broug.¡± ¡°I tle girl, itled t part containing ¡®An account of ty ced to false.¡¯¡± it put into my sewn in a cover, and ed. Mrs. Reed and I alone: some minutes passed in silence; sc be at t time some six or seven and ty; s frame, square-srong-limbed, not tall, and, tout, not obese: s large face, t, moutly regular; under eyebroitution ry rol; times defied y and laug to scorn; s calculated to set off tire. Sitting on a loool, a fe containing to tention ed as to an appropriate enor of tion, , rainging in my mind; I every ely as I plainly, and a passion of resentment fomented nohin me. Mrs. Reed looked up from tled on mine, time suspended ts. ¡°Go out of turn to te. My look or somet ruck reme tation. I got up, I to to to her. Speak I must: I rodden on severely, and must turn: but strengto dart retaliation at my antagonist? I gat sentence¡ª ¡°I am not deceitful: if I love you: I dislike you t of anybody in t Jo to your girl, Georgiana, for it is sells lies, and not I.¡± Mrs. Reed¡¯s ill lay on ive: inued to dwell freezingly on mine. ¡° more o say?¡± sone in of adult age to a child. t eye of voice stirred every antipato foot, tement, I continued¡ª ¡°I am glad you are no relation of mine: I again as long as I live. I o see you ed me, I of you makes me sick, and t you treated me y.¡± ¡°, Jane Eyre?¡± ¡° is trut I can do one bit of love or kindness; but I cannot live so: and you y. I s me back¡ªrougly t me back¡ªinto to my dying day; t, ress, ¡® Reed!¡¯ And t punis you made me suffer because your ruck me¡ªknocked me doell anybody tale. People t you are bad, ed. You are deceitful!¡± Ere I o expand, to exult, rangest sense of freedom, of triump. It seemed as if an invisible bond , and t I ruggled out into uny. Not cause iment: Mrs. Reed looked friging up o and fro, and even ting her face as if she would cry. ¡°Jane, you are under a mistake: ter remble so violently? ould you like to drink some er?¡± ¡°No, Mrs. Reed.¡± ¡°Is to be your friend.¡± ¡°Not you. You told Mr. Brockle I er, a deceitful disposition; and I¡¯ll let everybody at Lowood know w you are, and w you have done.¡± ¡°Jane, you don¡¯t understand t be corrected for ts.¡± ¡°Deceit is not my fault!¡± I cried out in a savage, high voice. ¡°But you are passionate, Jane, t you must allourn to ttle.¡± ¡°I am not your dear; I cannot lie doo sce to live here.¡± ¡°I o voce; and gatly quitted tment. I t battle I , and t victory I ood aude. First, I smiled to myself and felt elate; but t as did ted t quarrel s elders, as I give its furious feelings uncontrolled play, as I experiencing afterion. A ridge of lig emblem of my mind er ted as meetly my subsequent condition, ed and ing position. Sometasted for t time; as aromatic seemed, on ss after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I I knely from experience and partly from instinct, t o make ing every turbulent impulse of my nature. I ter faculty t of fierce speaking; fain find nouris for some less fiendis of sombre indignation. I took a book¡ªsome Arabian tales; I sat doo read. I could make no sense of t; my os sing. I opened t-room: te still: t reigned, unbroken by sun or breeze, t of my frock, and out to of tation rated; but I found no pleasure in t trees, tumn, russet leaves, s by past oget a gate, and looked into an empty field opaque sky, ¡°onding on sna it intervals, melting. I stood, a co myself over and over again, ¡° s shall I do?¡± All at once I o lunch!¡± It stir; step came tripping doh. ¡°You naugtle t you come when you are called?¡± Bessie¡¯s presence, compared s over is, after my conflict ory over Mrs. Reed, I disposed to care mucransitory anger; and I o bask in ness of . I just put my two arms round scold.¡± tion uated to indulge in: some pleased her. ¡°You are a strange c me; ¡°a little roving, solitary to school, I suppose?¡± I nodded. ¡°And you be sorry to leave poor Bessie?¡± ¡° does Bessie care for me? She is always scolding me.¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re sucened, stle thing. You should be bolder.¡± ¡°! to get more knocks?¡± ¡°Nonsense! But you are rat upon, t¡¯s certain. My moto see me last s like a little one of o be in your place.¡ªNow, come in, and I¡¯ve some good news for you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you have, Bessie.¡± ¡°C do you mean? sorro Missis and ter Jo to tea ternoon, and you sea o bake you a little cake, and to look over your drao pack your trunk. Missis intends you to leave Gatesoys you like to take h you.¡± ¡°Bessie, you must promise not to scold me any more till I go.¡± ¡°ell, I mind you are a very good girl, and don¡¯t be afraid of me. Don¡¯t start ¡¯s so provoking.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t t used to you, and I s of people to dread.¡± ¡°If you dread they¡¯ll dislike you.¡± ¡°As you do, Bessie?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t dislike you, Miss; I believe I am fonder of you thers.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t s.¡± ¡°You little s quite a nealking. makes you so venturesome and hardy?¡± ¡°o say somet on second ts I considered it better to remain silent on t head. ¡°And so you¡¯re glad to leave me?¡± ¡°Not at all, Bessie; indeed, just noher sorry.¡± ¡°Just notle lady says it! I dare say noo ask you for a kiss you give it me: you¡¯d say you¡¯d rat.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll kiss you and ually embraced, and I folloe comforted. t afternoon lapsed in peace and old me some of encories, and sang me some of est songs. Even for me life s gleams of sunshine. Chapter 5 Five o¡¯clock ruck on t a candle into my closet and found me already up and nearly dressed. I rance, and on my clot of a setting, o leave Gates day by a coaces at six a.m. Bessie risen; s a fire in to make my breakfast. Fes of a journey; nor could I. Bessie, o take a fes in a paper and put to my bag; t, and he nursery. As we passed Mrs. Reed¡¯s bedroom, she said, ¡°ill you go in and bid Missis good-bye?¡± ¡°No, Bessie: so my crib last nigo supper, and said I need not disturb old me to remember t s friend, and to speak of eful to her accordingly.¡± ¡° did you say, Miss?¡± ¡°Noturned from o the wall.¡± ¡°t was wrong, Miss Jane.¡± ¡°It e rig been my friend: she has been my foe.¡± ¡°O Miss Jane! don¡¯t say so!¡± ¡°Good-bye to Gates out at t door. t, and it ern, steps and gravel road sodden by a recent ter morning: my teettered as I ened do in ter¡¯s lodge: er¡¯s kindling runk, t ed but a fees of six, and sly after t ruck, tant roll of o tcs lamps approache gloom. ¡°Is ser¡¯s wife. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And ?¡± ¡°Fifty miles.¡± ¡° a long afraid to trust her so far alone.¡± t tes s four s top laden e; my trunk aken from Bessie¡¯s neck, to wh kisses. ¡°Be sure and take good care of o ted me into the inside. ¡°Ay, ay!¡± o, a voice exclaimed ¡°All rigeso unknoe and mysterious regions. I remember but little of t to me of a preternatural lengt o travel over oopped; taken out, and ted to dine. I o an inn, o , as I ite, me in an immense room eac from ttle red gallery truments. for a long time, feeling very strange, and mortally appres ly figured in Bessie¡¯s fireside c last turned; once more I oector mounted , sounded tled over tony street¡± of L-. ternoon came on and somey: as it o dusk, I began to feel t ting very far indeed from Gateso pass tory c grey rees. Lulled by t last dropped asleep; I long slumbered ion a anding at it: I sahe lamps. ¡°Is ttle girl called Jane Eyre ed out; my trunk ly drove away. I iff ting, and beion of ties, I looked about me. Rain, ; t and locked it bes burning in some; up a broad pebbly pat, and ted at a door; t led me to a room me alone. I stood and tain ligervals, papered , curtains, sure: it so spacious or splendid as t Gates comfortable enougo make out t of a picture on t entered; another followed close behind. t all lady ly enveloped in a senance was grave, . ¡°to be sent alone,¡± said sting able. Stentively for a minute or ther added¡ª ¡°Ster be put to bed soon; sired: are you tired?¡± she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder. ¡°A little, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°And oo, no doubt: let o bed, Miss Miller. Is t time you your parents to come to sctle girl?¡± I explained to I s. S tle: toucly h Miss Miller. t mig ty-nine; t impressed me by enance; and action, like one y of tasks on I after to compartment, from passage to passage, of a large and irregular building; till, emerging from total and some portion of traversed, ly entered a deal tables, t eac a pair of candles, and seated all round on bencion of girls of every age, from nine or ten to ty. Seen by t of to me appeared countless, t in reality exceeding eiguff frocks of quaint fas udy; to- morroask, and t of titions. Miss Miller signed to me to sit on a benco top of t¡ª ¡°Monitors, collect t tall girls arose from different tables, and going round, gathe word of command¡ª ¡°Monitors, fetcrays!¡± tall girls out and returned presently, eacray, ions of somet cer and mug in tray. tions o all. came to my turn, I drank, for I y, but did not toucement and fatigue rendering me incapable of eating: I no en cake so fragments. tairs. Overpoime iced of a place t t, like t o-nigo be Miss Miller¡¯s bed-fellos; in ten minutes t inguis silence and complete darkness I fell asleep. t passed rapidly. I oo tired even to dream; I only once ao s, and torrents, and to be sensible t Miss Miller aken yet begun to daoo rose reluctantly; it ter cold, and I dressed as y, one basin to six girls, on tands do order descended tairs and entered t scerwards s¡ª ¡°Form classes!¡± A great tumult succeeded for some minutes, during tables; all book, like a Bible, lay on eacable, before t seat. A pause of some seconds succeeded, filled up by to class, e sound. A distant bell tinkled: immediately tered to a table and took . Miss Miller assumed t c nearest t of to t ttom of it. Business no ed, tain texts of Scripture o tracted reading of cers in ted an ime t exercise erminated, day igable bell noime: to anoto breakfast: o be of getting someto eat! I ion, aken so little the day before. tory , loables smoked basins of somet, forting. I saation of discontent trils of tined to s; from tall girls of t class, rose the whispered words¡ª ¡°Disgusting! t again!¡± ¡°Silence!¡± ejaculated a voice; not t of Miss Miller, but one of teactle and dark personage, smartly dressed, but of some, op of one table, seen t before; s visible: Miss Miller occupied t of table range, foreign-looking, elderly lady, teacerook t at t brougea for teache meal began. Ravenous, and no, I devoured a spoonful or tion ts taste; but t edge of ed, I perceived I in porridge is almost as bad as rotten potatoes; famine itself soon sickens over it. taste ry to s; but in most cases t urned for , and a second ed, tory ed for t to go out, and in passing tables, I saeacake a basin of taste it; s tenances expressed displeasure, and one of tout one, whispered¡ª ¡°Abominable stuff! how shameful!¡± A quarter of an umult; for t space of time it seemed to be permitted to talk loud and more freely, and tion ran on t, ion teac girls standing about ures. I pronounced by some lips; at to cless s. A clock in truck nine; Miss Miller left anding in the room, cried¡ª ¡°Silence! to your seats!¡± Discipline prevailed: in five minutes to order, and comparative silence quelled tongues. teacually resumed ts: but still, all seemed to . Ranged on bency girls sat motionless and erect; a quaint assemblage t a curl visible; in bro t, tle pockets of ied in front of tined to serve too, ockings and country-made sened y of tume suited ty even to ttiest. I ill looking at t intervals examining teacout one tle coarse, t a little fierce, tesque, and Miss Miller, poor ten, and over-aneously, as if moved by a common spring. ter? I s, ted: but as all eyes urned to one point, mine folloion, and encountered t nigood at ttom of t eacly and gravely. Miss Miller approaco ask ion, and back to her place, and said aloud¡ª ¡°Monitor of t class, fetche globes!¡± ion ed, ted moved sloion, for I retain yet traced eps. Seen noo times, ; a gold cc so common t to complete ture, refined features; a complexion, if pale, clear; and a stately air and carriage, and least, as clearly as , a correct idea of terior of Miss temple¡ªMaria temple, as I afterten in a prayer-book intrusted to me to carry to church. tendent of Loables, summoned t class round eacitions in ory, grammar, amp;c., on for an ing and aritic succeeded, and music lessons emple to some of tion of eac last struck tendent rose¡ª ¡°I o address to the pupils,¡± said she. tumult of cessation from lessons it sank at on¡ª ¡°You ; you must be a lunco all.¡± teac of surprise. ¡°It is to be done on my responsibility,¡± sory tone to tely after the room. tly brougributed, to t and refres of to t on a coarse stra, rings of coloured calico, and a cloak of grey frieze. I ream, I made my o the open air. to exclude every glimpse of prospect; a covered verandao scores of little beds: to cultivate, and eacless look pretty; but no tter end of January, all ry bligood and looked round me: it day for outdoor exercise; not positively rainy, but darkened by a drizzling yello ill soaking erday. tronger among t and engaged in active games, but sundry pale and togeter and t penetrated to tly the sound of a hollow cough. As yet I o no one, nor did anybody seem to take notice of me; I stood lonely enoug to t feeling of isolation I omed; it did not oppress me muc against a pillar of tle close about me, and, trying to forget t, and tisfied o t of cions oo undefined and fragmentary to merit record: I kneed ao an immeasurable distance; t range, and of ture I could form no conjecture. I looked round t-like garden, and t te ne, containing tory, by mullioned and latticed one tablet over tion:¡ª ¡°Loitution.¡ªtion A.D.¡ª, by Naomi Brockle, of Brockle y.¡± ¡°Let your lig t. Matt. v. 16. I read t t an explanation belonged to to penetrate t. I ill pondering tion of ¡°Institution,¡± and endeavouring to make out a connection bet ure, ing on a stone benc over a book, on tent: from itle¡ªit struck me as strange, and consequently attractive. In turning a leaf so look up, and I said to ly¡ª ¡°Is your book interesting?¡± I ention of asking o lend it to me some day. ¡°I like it,¡± ser a pause of a second or two, during which she examined me. ¡° is it about?¡± I continued. I o open a conversation ranger; tep rary to my nature and s: but I tion toucoo liked reading, t digest or compreantial. ¡°You may look at it,¡± replied the book. I did so; a brief examination convinced me t tents aking title: Rasselas looked dull to my trifling taste; I sa fairies, not genii; no brigy seemed spread over ted pages. I returned it to quietly, and saying anyt to relapse into udious mood: again I ventured to disturb her¡ª ¡°Can you tell me ing on t stone over t is Loitution?¡± ¡°to live.¡± ¡°And itution? Is it in any from other schools?¡± ¡°It is partly a cy-sc of us, are cy-c either dead?¡± ¡°Both died before I can remember.¡± ¡°ell, all t eits, and titution for educating orphans.¡± ¡°Do hing?¡± ¡°e pay, or our friends pay, fifteen pounds a year for each.¡± ¡°ty-children?¡± ¡°Because fifteen pounds is not enougeacion.¡± ¡°ho subscribes?¡± ¡°Different benevolent-minded ladies and gentlemen in this neighbourhood and in London.¡± ¡°?¡± ¡°t t of t tablet records, and hing here.¡± ¡°hy?¡± ¡°Because reasurer and manager of tablis.¡± ¡°t belong to t tall lady wco have some bread and cheese?¡± ¡°to Miss temple? O did: so anso Mr. Brockle for all s buys all our food and all our clothes.¡± ¡°Does he live here?¡± ¡°No¡ªt a large hall.¡± ¡°Is he a good man?¡± ¡°o do a great deal of good.¡± ¡°Did you say t tall lady emple?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And eachers called?¡± ¡°ttends to ts out¡ªfor tle one ceacory and grammar, and itions; and t- ied to : seaches French.¡± ¡°Do you like teachers?¡± ¡°ell enough.¡± ¡°Do you like ttle black one, and t pronounce her name as you do.¡± ¡°Miss Scatcy¡ªyou must take care not to offend is not a bad sort of person.¡± ¡°But Miss temple is t¡ªisn¡¯t she?¡± ¡°Miss temple is very good and very clever; s, because shey do.¡± ¡°have you been long here?¡± ¡°two years.¡± ¡°Are you an orphan?¡± ¡°My mother is dead.¡± ¡°Are you happy here?¡± ¡°You ask ratoo many questions. I : no to read.¡± But at t moment tered tory ising t breakfast: ted vessels, eam redolent of rancid fat. I found to consist of indifferent potatoes and strange sy meat, mixed and cooked togetion a tolerably abundant plateful ioned to eace his. After dinner, ely adjourned to tinued till five o¡¯clock. t of ternoon I sacory class, and sent to stand in t seemed to me in a a girl¡ªseen or uped s distress and s to my surprise s nor blusood, tral mark of all eyes. ¡° so quietly¡ªso firmly?¡± I asked of myself. ¡°ere I in seems to me I so open and sion: of somet round I am sure t see it¡ª seems turned in, gone doo : s . I of a girl sy.¡± Soon after five p.m. udy; ter and t-cake, prayers, and bed. Suc day at Lowood. Chapter 6 t day commenced as before, getting up and dressing by rus; but to dispense er in tcaken place in t long, urned tents of to ice. Before t ready to peris-time came at last, and t burnt; ty able, tity small. ion seemed! I wis had been doubled. In tasks and occupations or of t Loo become an actor t first, being little accustomed to learn by , to me bot; t cask to task, too, beernoon, Miss Smit into my oget me to sit in a quiet corner of tions to t of t one class still stood round Miss Scatc, t of togetted ions of Miss Scatc ance of t t of t top of t for some error of pronunciation, or some inattention to stops, s to ttom. Even in t obscure position, Miss Scatcinued to make of constant notice: sinually addressing to he following:¡ª ¡°Burns¡± (suc seems urn your toes out immediately.¡± ¡°Burns, you poke your c unpleasantly; dra in.¡± ¡°Burns, I insist on your attitude,¡± amp;c. amp;c. A cer of tions about tonnage and poundage and s of to ansill, every little difficulty antly ance of t. I kept expecting t Miss Scatctention; but, instead of t, s¡ª ¡°You dirty, disagreeable girl! you his morning!¡± Burns made no ans I, ¡°does s explain t ser was frozen?¡± My attention o , salked to me from time to time, asking c, amp;c.; till s pursue my observations on Miss Scatcs. urned to my seat, t lady delivering an order of c; but Burns immediately left to t, returned in e, carrying in ied toget one end. tool sed to Miss Scatcful curtesy; tly, and being told, unloosed eacantly and sed on rokes a tear rose to Burns¡¯ eye; and, acle iment of unavailing and impotent anger, not a feature of ered its ordinary expression. ¡°c you of your slatternly s: carry the rod away.¡± Burns obeyed: I looked at ; s putting back o , and trace of a tear glistened on hin cheek. t test fraction of t Lo of bread, t of coffee s five o¡¯clock ality, if it satisfied raint of t s fires being alloo burn a little more brigo supply, in some measure, t yet introduced: ty. On tcables and laug a companion, yet not feeling lonely: ; it sno, a drift tting my ear close to tinguisumult e moan of tside. Probably, if I ely left a good s, t keenly ted tion; t ; turbed my peace! as it range excitement, and reckless and feveriso o deepen to darkness, and to rise to clamour. Jumping over forms, and creeping under tables, I made my o one of t, abstracted from all round he embers. ¡°Is it still Rasselas?¡± I asked, coming behind her. ¡°Yes,¡± s finis.¡± And in five minutes more s it up. I I, ¡°I can per o talk.¡± I sat down by he floor. ¡° is your name besides Burns?¡± ¡°helen.¡± ¡°Do you come a long way from here?¡± ¡°I come from a place farte on tland.¡± ¡°ill you ever go back?¡± ¡°I nobody can be sure of ture.¡± ¡°You must wiso leave Lowood?¡± ¡°No! o Loo get an education; and it il I tained t object.¡± ¡°But t teacco you?¡± ¡°Cruel? Not at all! Ss.¡± ¡°And if I rod, I s it from under her nose.¡± ¡°Probably you : but if you did, Mr. Brockle grief to your relations. It is far better to endure patiently a smart o commit a y action o all connected urn good for evil.¡± ¡°But t seems disgraceful to be flogged, and to be sent to stand in t girl: I am far younger t bear it.¡± ¡°Yet it y to bear it, if you could not avoid it: it is o say you cannot bear is your fate to be required to bear.¡± I comprerine of endurance; and still less could I understand or sympatiser. Still I felt t invisible to my eyes. I suspected s be rig I ponder tter deeply; like Felix, I put it off to a more convenient season. ¡°You say you s, are to me you seem very good.¡± ¡°t to judge by appearances: I am, as Miss Scatcternly; I seldom put, and never keep, t rules; I read bear to be subjected to systematic arrangements. to Miss Scatcurally neat, punctual, and particular.¡± ¡°And cross and cruel,¡± I added; but admit my addition: s silence. ¡°Is Miss temple as severe to you as Miss Scatcherd?¡± At tterance of Miss temple¡¯s name, a soft smile flitted over her grave face. ¡°Miss temple is full of goodness; it pains o be severe to any one, even t in tells me of tly; and, if I do anytrong proof of my cive nature is, t even ulations, so mild, so rational, influence to cure me of my faults; and even most stimulate me to continued care and foresight.¡± ¡°t is curious,¡± said I, ¡°it is so easy to be careful.¡± ¡°For you I it is. I observed you in your class ttentive: your ts never seemed to inually rove ao Miss Scatcing all sy, often I lose to a sort of dream. Sometimes I t ttle brook o my turn to reply, I o be aening to the visionary brook, I have no answer ready.¡± ¡°Yet ernoon.¡± ¡°It ed me. ternoon, instead of dreaming of Deepden, I ly and unimes did; and I t y it , egrity and conscientiousness, ives of t been able to look to a distance, and see t of tending! Still, I like C y : t to shey kill him!¡± alking to ten I could not very and I , or nearly so, of t so my level. ¡°And eacs hen?¡± ¡°No, certainly, not often; because Miss temple o say ion ses is often just w I wiso gain.¡± ¡°ell, temple you are good?¡± ¡°Yes, in a passive ; I folloion guides me. t in such goodness.¡± ¡°A great deal: you are good to to you. It is all I ever desire to be. If people to t, t all ter, but a reason, eacruck us never to do it again.¡± ¡°You a little untaught girl.¡± ¡°But I feel t dislike tever I do to please t in disliking me; I must resist tly. It is as natural as t I sion, or submit to punis w is deserved.¡± ¡°ribes doctrine, but Cians and civilised nations diso.¡± ¡° understand.¡± ¡°It is not violence t best overcomes e¡ªnor vengeance t most certainly heals injury.¡± ¡° then?¡± ¡°Read testament, and observe w C says, and s; make your example.¡± ¡° does he say?¡± ¡°Love your enemies; bless t curse you; do good to t e you and despitefully use you.¡± ¡°t do; I should bless her son John, which is impossible.¡± In urn, o explain, and I proceeded forto pour out, in my oale of my sufferings and resentments. Bitter and truculent , reserve or softening. iently to ted s shing. ¡°ell,¡± I asked impatiently, ¡°is not Mrs. Reed a ed, bad woman?¡± ¡°So you, no doubt; because you see, s of cer, as Miss Scatc ely you remember all so you! a singularly deep impression ice seems to ! No ill-usage so brands its record on my feelings. ould you not be ried to forget y, togete emotions it excited? Life appears to me too s to be spent in nursing animosity or registering be, one and all, burdened s in t time , ting off our corruptible bodies; and t, pure as tor to inspire ture: urn; pero be communicated to some being o pass tions of glory, from to brigo t rary, be suffered to degenerate from man to fiend? No; I cannot believe t: I augion; but in o ends o all: it makes Eternity a rest¡ªa mig a terror and an abyss. Besides, inguis , degradation never too deeply disgusts me, injustice never crusoo loo the end.¡± tle loalk to me, but rato converse s. S alloation: a monitor, a great rougly came up, exclaiming in a strong Cumberland accent¡ª ¡° go and put your drae, I¡¯ll tell Miss Scatco come and look at it!¡± ting up, obeyed tor reply as delay. Chapter 7 My first quarter at Lo t comprised an irksome struggle ies in uating myself to need tasks. ts ; trifles. During January, February, and part of Marcer ting, t impassable roads, prevented our stirring beyond t to go to c s o protect us from ts, t into our sed t: I remember racting irritation I endured from t inflamed; and torture of ting tiff toes into my sy supply of food ressing: ites of groo keep alive a delicate invalid. From t resulted an abuse, y, ttle ones out of tion. Many a time I s tributed at tea-time; and after relinquiso a tents of my mug of coffee, I of secret tears, forced from me by the exigency of hunger. Sundays ry season. e o o Brocklebridge Cron officiated. e set out cold, c paralysed. It oo far to return to dinner, and an allo and bread, in tion observed in our ordinary meals, he services. At ternoon service urned by an exposed and ter er s to t flayed the skin from our faces. I can remember Miss temple tered, gat and example, to keep up our spirits, and marcal soldiers.¡± teacoo muced to attempt task of chers. and of a blazing fire , to ttle ones at least, tely surrounded by a double ro girls, and bearved arms in their pinafores. A little solace came at tea-time, in tion of bread¡ªa ter: it reat to rived to reserve a moiety of teous repast for myself; but to part h. t in repeating, by , tecers of St. Mattening to a long sermon, read by Miss Miller, ed interlude of tment of t of Eutyctle girls, of t, yet off taken up o t to tre of to stand till times t failed togetors¡¯ ools. I yet alluded to ts of Mr. Brockle; and indeed t gentleman of t monter my arrival; peray o me. I need not say t I come last. One afternoon (I Loting e in my raction to t sig passing: I recognised almost instinctively t gaunt outline; and es after, all teac necessary for me to look up in order to ascertain ed. A long stride measured tly beside Miss temple, es tecture. Yes, I toned up in a surtout, and looking longer, narrohan ever. I tion; too s given by Mrs. Reed about my disposition, amp;c.; t to apprise Miss temple and teacure. All along I of t daily for tion respecting my past life and conversation o brand me as a bad chere he was. ood at Miss temple¡¯s side; doubt cy, expecting every moment to see its dark orb turn on me a glance of repugnance and contempt. I listened too; and as I o be seated quite at top of t most of relieved me from immediate apprehension. ¡°I suppose, Miss temple, t at Lo struck me t it of ty for ted to matcell Miss Smit I forgot to make a memorandum of t s in next , to give out more t a time to eac to be careless and lose tockings ter looked to!¡ª into tcity of black ate of repair: from t been ime to time.¡± he paused. ¡°Your directions stended to, sir,¡± said Miss temple. ¡°And, ma¡¯am,¡± inued, ¡°tells me some of tuckers in t is too muc to one.¡± ¡°I t circumstance, sir. Agnes and Catone ed to take tea Lo to put on clean tuckers for the occasion.¡± Mr. Brockle nodded. ¡°ell, for once it may pass; but please not to let tance occur too often. And ttling accounts a luncing of bread and c to t fortnigions, and I find no sucioned. roduced tion? and by y?¡± ¡°I must be responsible for tance, sir,¡± replied Miss temple: ¡°t t possibly eat it; and I dared not alloo remain fasting till dinner-time.¡± ¡°Madam, alloant. You are a my plan in bringing up t to accustom to s of luxury and indulgence, but to render tient, self-denying. Stle accidental disappointment of tite occur, suc oug to be neutralised by replacing e t lost, ting titution; it ougo be improved to tual edification of to evince fortitude under temporary privation. A brief address on t be mistimed, or ake tunity of referring to tive Cians; to torments of martyrs; to tations of our blessed Lord o take up to man s live by bread alone, but by every proceedet of to ions, ¡°If ye suffer for My sake, bread and cead of burnt porridge, into t you little tarve tal souls!¡± Mr. Brockle again paused¡ªperemple began to speak to sraigurally pale as marble, appeared to be assuming also ty of t material; especially , and tled gradually into petrified severity. Meantime, Mr. Brockle, standing on tically surveyed t somet eits pupil; turning, s to used¡ª ¡°Miss temple, Miss temple, girl ending ed to t, his hand shaking as he did so. ¡°It is Julia Severn,¡± replied Miss temple, very quietly. ¡°Julia Severn, ma¡¯am! And o table establis¡ªas to wear her hair one mass of curls?¡± ¡°Julia¡¯s urally,¡± returned Miss temple, still more quietly. ¡°Naturally! Yes, but to conform to nature; I abundance? I imated t I desire to be arranged closely, modestly, plainly. Miss temple, t girl¡¯s be cut off entirely; I o-morrooo muc tall girl, tell o turn round. tell all t form to rise up and direct to the wall.¡± Miss temple passed o smootary smile t curled t class could take in tle back on my benced on t y Mr. Brockle could not see too; t, side of tter, terference than he imagined. inised tes, tence. the knell of doom¡ª ¡°All top-knots must be cut off.¡± Miss temple seemed to remonstrate. ¡°Madam,¡± er to serve o mortify in ts of to teaco cloty, not ly apparel; and eacring of ed in plaits self mig, must be cut off; time ed, of¡ª¡± Mr. Brockle ed: tors, ladies, noered t to tle sooner to ure on dress, for ttired in velvet, silk, and furs. trio (fine girls of sixteen and seventeen) s, tric tresses, elaborately curled; tly velvet srimmed of French curls. tially received by Miss temple, as Mrs. and t, and conducted to seats of top of t seems tive, and ing a rummaging scrutiny of tairs, ed business ioned tured tendent. to address divers remarks and reproofs to Miss Smition of tories: but I ime to listen to ters called off and enced my attention. o, emple, I , at time, neglected precautions to secure my personal safety; ed, if I could only elude observation. to t o be busy e in suco conceal my face: I migice, my treace someo slip from my rusive crasly dra ooped to pick up ts of slate, I rallied my forces for t. It came. ¡°A careless girl!¡± said Mr. Brockle, and immediately after¡ª¡°It is t not forget I o say respecting seemed to me! ¡°Let te come forward!¡± Of my o irred; I t girls emple gently assisted me to , and I caught her whispered counsel¡ª ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid, Jane, I sa ; you s be punished.¡± t to my like a dagger. ¡°Anote, and se,¡± t I; and an impulse of fury against Reed, Brockle, and Co. bounded in my pulses at tion. I was no helen Burns. ¡°Fetc stool,¡± said Mr. Brockle, pointing to a very or risen: it . ¡°Place t.¡± And I knoion to note particulars; I ted me up to t of Mr. Brockle¡¯s nose, t a spread of s orange and purple silk pelisses and a cloud of silvery plumage extended and waved below me. Mr. Brockle hemmed. ¡°Ladies,¡± said urning to emple, teachis girl?¡± Of course t ted like burning- glasses against my scorched skin. ¡°You see s young; you observe s o all of us; no signal deformity points as a marked cer. t and agent in suco say, is the case.¡± A pause¡ªin eady to feel t t trial, no longer to be s be firmly sustained. ¡°My dear c becomes my duty to t be one of God¡¯s otle casta a member of true flock, but evidently an interloper and an alien. You must be on your guard against ss, and s from your converse. teac cs, ongue falters ) tive of a Cian land, tle s prayers to Bra¡ªthis girl is¡ªa liar!¡± Noen minutes, during possession of my s, observed all ts produce t-o tics, wo younger ones w resumed. ¡°tress; from table lady e, reared er, and itude so bad, so dreadful, t at last patroness o separate aminate ty: s o be to troubled pool of Beteacendent, I beg of you not to alloers to stagnate round her.¡± it adjusted top button of out, muttered someto o Miss temple, and t people sailed in state from turning at the door, my judge said¡ª ¡°Let and stool, and let no one speak to he day.¡± ted aloft; I, anding on my natural feet in to general vieal of infamy. my sensations just as tifling my breatricting my t, a girl came up and passed me: in passing, sed a strange lig an extraordinary sensation t ray sent t yr, a im, and imparted strengtransit. I mastered teria, lifted up my ook a firm stand on tool. question about riviality of turned to me as s by. a smile! I remember it no it ellect, of true courage; it lit up s, ion from t of an angel. Yet at t moment idy badge;¡± scarcely an co a dinner of bread and er on tted an exercise in copying it out. Suc nature of man! sucs are t planet; and eyes like Miss Scatce defects, and are blind to tness of the orb. Chapter 8 Ere truck; sco tory to tea. I noured to descend: it ired into a corner and sat doed began to dissolve; reaction took place, and soon, so overrate o t: ained me; left to myself I abandoned myself, and my tears ered t to be so good, and to do so muc Loo make so many friends, to earn respect and ion. Already I very morning I emple ion; so teaco let me learn Frencinued to make similar improvement treated as an equal by t molested by any; now, rodden on; and could I ever rise more? ¡°Never,¡± I t; and ardently I s, some one approacarted up¡ª again s room; s my coffee and bread. ¡°Come, eat somet I put bot condition. noe my agitation, tried inued to ed attitude s as an Indian. I who spoke¡ª ¡°ay o be a liar?¡± ¡°Everybody, Jane? y people wains hundreds of millions.¡± ¡°But y, I know, despise me.¡± ¡°Jane, you are mistaken: probably not one in ty you much.¡± ¡°y me after w Mr. Brockle has said?¡± ¡°Mr. Brockle is not a god: nor is and admired man: tle liked ook steps to make reated you as an especial favourite, you is, ter number eac friendly feelings are concealed in ts; and if you persevere in doing ly for temporary suppression. Besides, Jane¡±¡ªshe paused. ¡°ell, ting my o ly to on¡ª ¡°If all ted you, and believed you be friends.¡± ¡°No; I kno is not enoug love me I bear to be solitary and ed, o gain some real affection from you, or Miss temple, or any otruly love, I to o let a bull toss me, or to stand be it dass my c¡ª¡± ¡°oo mucoo impulsive, too ve; t created your frame, and put life into it, ures feeble as you. Besides ts: t is everyco guard us; and if ures, recognise our innocence (if innocent ed at second-ure in your ardent eyes and on your clear front), and God s only tion of spirit from fleso croress, rance to o glory?¡± I ; in tranquillity sed t t I could not tell le fast and coug cougarily forgot my oo yield to a vague concern for her. Resting my my arms round ; so sat long t from t t, streaming in t once recognised as Miss temple. ¡°I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre,¡± said s you in my room; and as oo.¡± e ; folloendent¡¯s guidance, ricate passages, and mount a staircase before ; it contained a good fire, and looked cemple told o be seated in a loo her side. ¡°Is it all over?¡± s my face. ¡°have you cried your grief away?¡± ¡°I am afraid I never s.¡± ¡°hy?¡± ¡°Because I hink me wicked.¡± ¡°e s you prove yourself to be, my cinue to act as a good girl, and you isfy us.¡± ¡°Semple?¡± ¡°You ress?¡± ¡°Mrs. Reed, my uncle¡¯s o her care.¡± ¡°Did s, t you of her own accord?¡± ¡°No, ma¡¯am; so o do it: but my uncle, as I en s say, got o promise before she would always keep me.¡± ¡°ell no least I ell you, t s is true; but add note nothing.¡± I resolved, in t, t I moderate¡ªmost correct; and, ed a fees in order to arrange coly old ory of my sad ced by emotion, my language generally sad t tment, I infused into tive far less of gall and rained and simplified, it sounded more credible: I felt as I on t Miss temple fully believed me. In tale I ioned Mr. Lloyd as o see me after t: for I never forgot to me, frigailing o break bounds; for noten in my recollection tc ime in ted chamber. I emple regarded me a fees in silence; shen said¡ª ¡°I knoe to atement, you sation; to me, Jane, you are clear now.¡± Sill keeping me at ented to stand, for I derived a cemplation of s, e foreered and so address helen Burns. ¡°o-nigo-day?¡± ¡°Not quite so muchink, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°And t?¡± ¡°It is a little better.¡± Miss temple got up, took urned to : as s, I es, then rousing herself, she said cheerfully¡ª ¡°But you tors to-nig treat you as such.¡± She rang her bell. ¡°Barbara,¡± so t ea; bring tray and place cups for two young ladies.¡± And a tray y, to my eyes, did t teapot look, placed on ttle round table near t eam of t of toast! of o be ion: Miss temple discerned it too. ¡°Barbara,¡± said s bring a little more bread and butter? t enoughree.¡± Barbara out: surned soon¡ª ¡°Madam, Mrs. up tity.¡± Mrs. observed, er Mr. Brockle¡¯s os of whalebone and iron. ¡°Ourned Miss temple; ¡° make it do, Barbara, I suppose.¡± And as tunately, I in my poo supply deficiencies for this once.¡± ed o approacable, and placed before eacea toast, s up, unlocked a draaking from it a parcel ly to our eyes a good-sized seed-cake. ¡°I meant to give eaco take as ttle toast, you must no slices h a generous hand. e feasted t evening as on nectar and ambrosia; and not t deligertainment ification ess regarded us, as isfied our famisites on te fare she liberally supplied. tea over and tray removed, so t one on eacion folloo be admitted to hear. Miss temple y in ate in y in ion into t, ted, tened tened to rolling sense of ao ruck h wonder. t fire, tructress, or, per, t tint of ill t pale and bloodless; tre of y more singular t of Miss temple¡¯s¡ªa beauty neit of meaning, of movement, of radiance. t on source I cannot tell. een a large enougo eristic of , to me, memorable evening; seemed ening to live racted existence. tions and times past; of countries far as of nature discovered or guessed at: t stores of kno my amazement reacs climax c to recall tin augaking a book from a srue a page of Virgil; and ion expanding at every sounding line. Sime! no delay could be admitted; Miss temple embraced us boto ¡ª ¡°God bless you, my children!¡± tle longer t antly; it ear from her cheek. On reacc pulled out ered ed old t to-morroicles pinned to her shoulder. ¡°My to me, in a loended to I forgot.¡± Next morning, Miss Scatce in conspicuous cers on a piece of pasteboard ttern,¡± and bound it like a pery round elligent, and benign- looking fore till evening, patient, unresentful, regarding it as a deserved punis. t Miss Scatcer afternoon sco ore it off, and t it into tears, and large, inually been scalding my cacle of ion gave me an intolerable pain at t. About a ly to ts above narrated, Miss temple, o Mr. Lloyd, received appeared t o corroborate my account. Miss temple, inquiry o t Jane Eyre, and t s o be able to pronounce ely cleared from every imputation. teache ranks of my companions. t to y: I toiled ionate to my efforts; my memory, not naturally tenacious, improved ice; exercise ss; in a feed to a o commence Frenc tenses of tre, and sketc cottage (o nigo bed, I forgot to prepare in imagination t roast potatoes, or to amuse my ined instead on tacle of ideal drauresque rocks and ruins, Cuyp-like groups of cattle, s paintings of butterflies ripe cs enclosing pearl-like eggs, oo, in t, ty of my ever being able to translate currently a certain little Frencory o my satisfaction ere I fell sly asleep. ell ter is a dinner of alled ox and red th.¡± I noions for Gatess daily luxuries. Chapter 9 But tions, or rats of er s snoed, its cutting ed. My c, flayed and so lameness by to ler breats and mornings no longer by temperature froze times on a sunny day it began even to be pleasant and genial, and a greenness greed t t raversed t nig eacer traces of eps. Flo amongst ternoons (ook ill ser flohe hedges. I discovered, too, t a great pleasure, an enjoyment ed in prospect of noble summits girdling a great beck, full of dark stones and sparkling eddies. laid out beneater, stiffened in frost, ss as co t ill t beck itself orrent, turbid and curbless: it tore asunder t a raving sound ten t; and for t on its banks, t sons. April advanced to May: a brig ern or souts duration. And noation matured s tresses; it became all green, all flos great elm, asons ored to majestic life; s sprang up profusely in its recesses; unnumbered varieties of moss filled its made a strange ground-suns of ts s: I s like scatterings of test lustre. All ten and fully, free, unc alone: for ted liberty and pleasure to ask to advert. described a pleasant site for a d enoug ion. t forest-dell, o typs croransformed to an al. Semi-starvation and neglected colds of to receive infection: forty-five out of ty girls lay ill at one time. Classes inued unlimited license; because ttendant insisted on ty of frequent exercise to keep t been oto crain temple¡¯s ion ients: sting it except to snatc at nigeacions for ture of tunate enougo ions able and o remove t of contagion. Many, already smitten, o die: some died at tly and quickly, ture of the malady forbidding delay. ant of Los frequent visitor; eamed al smells, tille striving vainly to overcome tality, t brigiful of doors. Its garden, too, gloall as trees, lilies ulips and roses tle beds and crimson double daisies; tbriars gave out, morning and evening, t of spice and apples; and t treasures of tes of Lo to furniso put in a coffin. But I, and t ies of t us ramble in till nig oo. Mr. Brockle and ters scrutinised into; tion; ron at ton Dispensary, unused to tive liberality. Besides, to feed; t little; our breakfast-basins ter filled; o prepare a regular dinner, , and dined sumptuously. My favourite seat one, rising o be got at by er; a feat I accomplis. tone broad enougo accommodate, comfortably, anot t time my c personage, ook pleasure in, partly because sty and original, and partly because s me at my ease. Some years older tell me many to y found gratification: to my faults also surn for narrative, I for analysis; so inform, I to question; so on sogetertainment, if not muc, from our mutual intercourse. And days of liberty ten o ired of y? Surely tioned o my first acquaintance: sell me amusing stories, and reciprocate any racy and pungent gossip I co indulge in; o give taste of far hings. true, reader; and I kne tive being, s and fes, yet I never tired of o ciment of attac, as strong, tender, and respectful as any t ever animated my . be ot all times and under all circumstances, evinced for me a quiet and faitation never troubled? But present: for some o I kne airs. S, I old, in tal portion of tients; for ion, not typion I, in my ignorance, understood sometime and care o alleviate. I of airs on very ernoons, and being taken by Miss temple into t, on t alloo go and speak to distinctly; for s at a distance under the verandah. One evening, in tayed out very late ed ourselves from t our at a lonely cottage, in t back, it er moonrise: a pony, anding at t s be very ill, as Mr. Bates for at t time of t into tayed bees to plant in my garden a s I , and ill t a little longer: t so s as t ill glo promised so fairly anoty in t. I ing t, ered my mind as it had never done before:¡ª ¡°o be lying noo be in danger of dying! t¡ªit o be called from it, and to o go who knows where?¡± And ts first earnest effort to compre o it concerning time it recoiled, baffled; and for t time glancing be, it sa felt t ood¡ªt; all t dept s t of tottering, and plunging amid t c door open; Mr. Bates came out, and er s , s to close t I ran up to her. ¡°how is helen Burns?¡± ¡°Very poorly,¡± he answer. ¡°Is it es o see?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And w does her?¡± ¡° be here long.¡± ttered in my erday, s to be removed to Norto ed t it meant s I kneantly no opened clear on my compre days in t so be taken to ts, if sucrong ty to see room she lay. ¡°Semple¡¯s room,¡± said the nurse. ¡°May I go up and speak to her?¡± ¡°O is not likely; and no is time for you to come in; you¡¯ll catcop out whe dew is falling.¡± t door; I in by trance in time; it o go to bed. It mig silence of tory, t my companions in profound repose¡ªrose softly, put on my frock over my nig s from tment, and set off in quest of Miss temple¡¯s room. It e at t I kne of tering passage o find it difficulty. An odour of camp vinegar t up all nig back; for I must see embrace give kiss, exc word. aircase, traversed a portion of tting, noise, teps; ted, and t opposite to me emple¡¯s room. A ligillness pervaded ty. Coming near, I found tly ajar; probably to admit some freso to ate, and full of impatient impulses¡ªsoul and senses quivering it back and looked in. My eye sougo find death. Close by Miss temple¡¯s bed, and s ains, tood a little crib. I saline of a form under t to in t in an easy-c dimly on table. Miss temple to be seen: I kneer so a delirious patient in tain, but I preferred speaking before I . I still recoiled at the dread of seeing a corpse. ¡°ly, ¡°are you awake?¡± Sirred back tain, and I sa quite composed: stle c my fear antly dissipated. ¡°Can it be you, Jane?¡± sle voice. ¡°O, ¡°s going to die; taken: s speak and look so calmly if she were.¡± I got on to ; but she smiled as of old. ¡° is past eleven o¡¯clock: I strike some minutes since.¡± ¡°I came to see you, sleep till I o you.¡± ¡°You came to bid me good-bye, t in time probably.¡± ¡°Are you going somewhere, helen? Are you going home?¡± ¡°Yes; to my long home.¡± ¡°No, no, opped, distressed. ried to devour my tears, a fit of coug did not, hen she whispered¡ª ¡°Jane, your little feet are bare; lie do.¡± I did so: s led close to er a long silence, sill whispering¡ª ¡°I am very I am dead, you must be sure and not grieve: to grieve about. e all must die one day, and t painful; it is gentle and gradual: my mind is at rest. I leave no one to regret me mucely married, and miss me. By dying young, I s sufferings. I qualities or talents to make my inually at fault.¡± ¡°But wo, helen? Can you see? Do you know?¡± ¡°I believe; I o God.¡± ¡° is God?¡± ¡°My Maker and yours, ly on till t eventful one arrives o o me.¡± ¡°You are sure, t t our souls can get to it when we die?¡± ¡°I am sure ture state; I believe God is good; I can resign my immortal part to any misgiving. God is my father; God is my friend: I love him; I believe he loves me.¡± ¡°And shall I see you again, helen, when I die?¡± ¡°You o ty, universal Parent, no doubt, dear Jane.¡± Again I questioned, but time only in t. ¡° region? Does it exist?¡± And I clasped my arms closer round o me t as if I could not let ly sest tone¡ª ¡°able I am! t last fit of cougired me a little; I feel as if I could sleep: but don¡¯t leave me, Jane; I like to have you near me.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll stay ake me way.¡± ¡°Are you warm, darling?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Good-night, Jane.¡± ¡°Good-night, helen.¡± Sh soon slumbered. roused me; I looked up; I o tory. I reprimanded for leaving my bed; people o t; no explanation o my many questions; but a day or ter Miss temple, on returning to dale crib; my face against helen Burns¡¯s shoulder, my arms round her neck. I was asleep, and helen was¡ªdead. een years after noablet marks t, inscribed he word ¡°Resurgam.¡± Chapter 10 o I ail ts of my insignificant existence: to t ten years of my life I as many cers. But t to be a regular autobiograpo invoke Memory ; t years almost in silence: a feo keep up tion. yps mission of devastation at Lo gradually disappeared from t not till its virulence and ts victims tention on to ts came out ion in a ure of te; tity and quality of tid er used in its preparation; tcions¡ªall t mortifying to Mr. Brockle, but beneficial to titution. Several individuals in ty subscribed largely for tion of a more convenient building in a better situation; neions s in diet and clotroduced; trusted to t of a committee. Mr. Brockle, be overlooked, still retained t of treasurer; but ies by gentlemen of rator, too, rictness, comfort ness. time a truly useful and noble institution. I remained an inmate of its er its regeneration, for eigeacies I bear my testimony to its value and importance. During t years my life not un inactive. I education placed udies, and a desire to excel in all, toget deligeacages offered me. In time I rose to be t girl of t class; ted eac at t time I altered. Miss temple, tinued superintendent of to ruction I o part of my acquirements; y inual solace; sood me in tead of motterly, companion. At t man, almost o a distant county, and consequently to me. From t I tled feeling, every association t o me. I ure and mucs: more s: ter regulated feelings es of my mind. I o duty and order; I ; I believed I ent: to to my own, I appeared a disciplined and subdued cer. But destiny, in temple: I saep into a post-cly after tc ts broired to my o in solitude test part of ted in he occasion. I t of time. I imagined myself only to be regretting my loss, and to repair it; but ternoon in terval I ransforming process; t my mind off all it emple¡ªor rat saken mospy¡ªand t no in my natural element, and beginning to feel tirring of old emotions. It did not seem as if a prop rative to be tranquil ranquillity ems; no t a varied field of ions and excitements, aed to go forto its expanse, to seek real kno its perils. I to my , and looked out. ts of Los to rest on t remote, t o surmount; all s. I traced te road ain, and vanis fartime very road in a coac t to Loed it since. My vacations at sc for me to Gateso visit me. I ion by letter or message er ions, and voices, and faces, and pumes, and preferences, and antipat I kneence. And no t it enougired of tine of eigernoon. I desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on tly blo and framed a ion; for cimulus: t petition, too, seemed s off into vague space: ¡°te, ¡°grant me at least a neude!¡± airs. I free to resume terrupted cions till bedtime: even teac me from t to alk. seemed as if, could I but go back to t entered my mind as I stood at tive suggestion would rise for my relief. Miss Gryce snored at last; sill norains to-nig deep notes isfaction; I erruption; my instantly revived. ¡°A neude! t,¡± I soliloquised (mentally, be it understood; I did not talk aloud), ¡°I kno does not sound too s; it is not like sucy, Excitement, Enjoyment: deligruly; but no more ting t it is mere e of time to listen to t Servitude! t must be matter of fact. Any one may serve: I years; no is to serve else so muc t so difficult; if I ive enougo ferret out ttaining it.¡± I sat up in bed by . ¡° do I ? A neances: I t is of no use ing anytter. o get a neo friends, I suppose: I look about for t is their resource?¡± I could not tell: noto find a response, and quickly. It er: I felt temples; but for nearly an s efforts. Feveris up and took a turn in tain, noted a star or to bed. A kind fairy, in my absence, ion on my pillo came quietly and naturally to my mind.¡ª¡°t situations advertise; you must advertise in the¡ªshire herald.¡± ¡° advertising.¡± Replies rose smoot now:¡ª ¡°You must enclose tisement and to pay for it under a cover directed to tor of t put it, t opportunity you o t at Lo be addressed to J.E., at t-office t a er you send your letter, if any are come, and act accordingly.¡± t over t ed in my mind; I in a clear practical form: I felt satisfied, and fell asleep. it day, I ten, enclosed, and directed before to rouse t ran thus:¡ª ¡°A young lady accustomed to tuition¡± ( been a teacing uation in a private family t as I do to undertake to teacion, togetalogue of accompliss, on,¡ªshire.¡± t remained locked in my draer tea, I asked leave of tendent to go to Loo perform some small commissions for myself and one or teaced; I . It , but till long; I visited a ster into t- office, and came back treaming garments, but . t came to an end at last, o autumn day, I found myself afoot on to Louresque track it est curves of t t day I t more of tters, t mig not be aing me at ttle burger. My ostensible errand on to get measured for a pair of s business first, and epped across t little street from to t-office: it by an old dame, ens on her hands. ¡°Are tters for J.E.?¡± I asked. S me over acles, and ts contents for a long time, so long t my o falter. At last, before es, sed it across ter, accompanying t by anotive and mistrustful glance¡ªit was for J.E. ¡°Is there only one?¡± I demanded. ¡°t it in my pocket and turned my face open it to be back by eig was already seven. Various duties aed me on my arrival. I o sit udy; t urn to read prayers; to see to bed: aftereacired for t, table Miss Gryce ill my companion: ick, and I dreaded lest salk till it out; fortunately, en produced a soporific effect: sill remained an incook out my letter; tial F.; I broke it; tents were brief. ¡°If J.E., ts mentioned, and if sion to give satisfactory references as to cer and competency, a situation can be offered one pupil, a little girl, under ten years of age; and ed to send references, name, address, and all particulars to tion:¡ª ¡°Mrs. Fairfax, te,¡ªshire.¡± I examined t long: ting of in elderly lady. tance isfactory: a private fear ed me, t in ting for myself, and by my oting into some scrape; and, above all t of my endeavours to be respectable, proper, en r¨¨gle. I no t an elderly lady in t not uncivil: a model of elderly Englisability. t, doubtless, orderly spot, I s to conceive a correct plan of te, ¡ª sions of t; botoe county ion to me. I longed to go e uring toless: so mucter; it e c least. Not t my fancy ed by t,¡± I argued, ¡°town.¡± of t out. Next day neeps o be taken; my plans could no longer be confined to my o; I must impart to ac and obtained an audience of tendent during tide recreation, I told of getting a neuation Lo ¡ê15 per annum); and requested ster for me to Mr. Brockle, or some of ttee, and ascertain o mention ted to act as mediatrix in tter. t day s, be ten to, as sural guardian. A note o t lady, ¡°I migerference in my affairs.¡± te ttee, and at last, after o me most tedious delay, formal leave o better my condition if I could; and an assurance added, t as I ed myself eac Loestimonial of cer and capacity, signed by tors of t institution, sh be furnished me. testimonial I accordingly received in about a mont to Mrs. Fairfax, and got t lady¡¯s reply, stating t sisfied, and fixing t day fortnig of governess in her house. I noions: tnig a very large e to my s; and t day sufficed to pack my trunk,¡ªt years ago from Gateshead. to call for it to take it to Lo an early morning to meet tuff travelling-dress, prepared my bonnet, gloves, and muff; sougo see t no article beo do, I sat doried to rest. I could not; t all day, I could not noant; I oo muced. A po-nigo-morroo slumber in terval; I must che change was being accomplished. ¡°Miss,¡± said a servant roubled spirit, ¡°a person below wiso see you.¡± ¡°t,¡± I t, and ran doairs inquiry. I eacting-room, to go to tc¡ª ¡°It¡¯s old opped my progress and took my hand. I looked: I satired like a , matronly, yet still young; very good-looking, h black hair and eyes, and lively complexion. ¡°ell, e forgotten me, I think, Miss Jane?¡± In anoturously: ¡°Bessie! Bessie! Bessie!¡± t o tood a little fellorousers. ¡°t is my little boy,¡± said Bessie directly. ¡°then you are married, Bessie?¡± ¡°Yes; nearly five years since to Robert Leaven, ttle girl besides Bobby t I¡¯ve cened Jane.¡± ¡°And you don¡¯t live at Gateshead?¡± ¡°I live at ter .¡± ¡°ell, and on? tell me everyt t sit do; and, Bobby, come and sit on my knee, Bobby preferred sidling over to her. ¡°You¡¯re not groall, Miss Jane, nor so very stout,¡± continued Mrs. Leaven. ¡°I dare say t kept you too scaller th.¡± ¡°Georgiana is handsome, I suppose, Bessie?¡± ¡°Very. S up to London last er ions tc do you t up to run a t and stopped. It found t: I believe ser lead a cat and dog life togethey are always quarrelling¡ª¡± ¡°ell, and w of John Reed?¡± ¡°O doing so o college, and ¡ªplucked, I t: and ted o be a barrister, and study t ed young man, think.¡± ¡° does he look like?¡± ¡°all: some people call hick lips.¡± ¡°And Mrs. Reed?¡± ¡°Missis looks stout and quite easy in does not please her¡ªhe spends a deal of money.¡± ¡°Did she send you here, Bessie?¡± ¡°No, indeed: but I ed to see you, and ter from you, and t you o anot of try, I t I¡¯d just set of, and get a look at you before you e out of my reach.¡± ¡°I am afraid you are disappointed in me, Bessie.¡± I said t Bessie¡¯s glance, t expressed regard, did in no se admiration. ¡°No, Miss Jane, not exactly: you are genteel enoug is as muced of you: you y as a child.¡± I smiled at Bessie¡¯s frank ans t it , but I confess I quite indifferent to its import: at eig people ion t t an exterior likely to second t desire brings anyt gratification. ¡°I dare say you are clever, tinued Bessie, by he piano?¡± ¡°A little.¡± t and opened it, and to sit doz or two, and she was charmed. ¡°t play as hem in learning: and can you draw?¡± ¡°t is one of my paintings over t er colours, of o tendent, in ackno of ion tee on my behalf, and which she had framed and glazed. ¡°ell, t is beautiful, Miss Jane! It is as fine a picture as any Miss Reed¡¯s draer could paint, let alone t come near it: and French?¡± ¡°Yes, Bessie, I can bot and speak it.¡± ¡°And you can work on muslin and canvas?¡± ¡°I can.¡± ¡°Oe a lady, Miss Jane! I kne on ice you or not. ted to ask you. he Eyres?¡± ¡°Never in my life.¡± ¡°ell, you knoe despicable: and t I believe try as to Gatesed to see you; Missis said you scy miles off; ed, for stay: o a foreign country, and to sail from London in a day or tleman, and I believe her.¡± ¡° foreign country was o, Bessie?¡± ¡°An island tler did tell me¡ª¡± ¡°Madeira?¡± I suggested. ¡°Yes, t is it¡ªt is the very word.¡± ¡°So ?¡± ¡°Yes; stay many minutes in terradesman.¡¯ My Robert believes .¡± ¡°Very likely,¡± I returned; ¡°or per to a wine- merc.¡± Bessie and I conversed about old times an o leave me: I sa morning at Loed finally at t Arms t e o meet to take o Gatesed to bear me to neies and a nee. Chapter 11 A neain time, reader, you must fancy you see a room in t Millcote, , sucure, sucs on telpiece, sucs, including a portrait of George tation of to you by t of an oil lamp of an excellent fire, near ; my muff and umbrella lie on table, and I am racted by sixteen o tober day: I left Lo four o¡¯clock a.m., and te to striking eight. Reader, tably accommodated, I am not very tranquil in my mind. I t me; I looked anxiously round as I descended teps ts¡± placed for my convenience, expecting to o see some description of carriage ing to convey me to t er a Miss Eyre, I ive: so I to request to be so a private room: and ing, s and fears are troubling my ts. It is a very strange sensation to inexperienced youto feel itself quite alone in t adrift from every connection, uncertain o s from returning to t it ted. ture sens t sensation, t; but turbs it; and fear myself to ring the bell. ¡°Is ter whe summons. ¡°t kno t reappeared instantly¡ª ¡°Is your name Eyre, Miss?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Person ing for you.¡± I jumped up, took my muff and umbrella, and ened into tanding by t street I dimly saw a one-horse conveyance. ¡°tly o my trunk in the passage. ¡°Yes.¡± ed it on to t of car, and t in; before me up, I asked o thornfield. ¡°A matter of six miles.¡± ¡° there?¡± ¡°happen an hour and a half.¡± ened to outside, and off. Our progress ime to reflect; I ent to be at lengtable t elegant conveyance, I meditated muc my ease. ¡°I suppose,¡± t I, ¡°judging from t and carriage, Mrs. Fairfax is not a very daster; I never lived amongst fine people but once, and I ttle girl; if so, and if so get on ; it is a pity t doing one¡¯s best does not al Loook t resolution, kept it, and succeeded in pleasing; but turn out a second Mrs. Reed; but if s bound to stay t come to t, I can advertise again. how far are we on our road now, I wonder?¡± I let do; Millcote ude, mucon. e of common; but ttered all over trict; I felt region to Louresque; more stirring, less romantic. t misty; my conductor let ended, I verify believe, to t urned in and said¡ª ¡°You¡¯re noan so far fro¡¯ thornfield now.¡± Again I looked out: o ts bell olling a quarter; I sa ten minutes after, t does: o be of a gleamed from one curtained bo opped at t door; it ; I alig in. ¡°ill you o a room first dazzled me, contrasting as it did o ed itself to my view. A snug small room; a round table by a c test imaginable little elderly lady, in ly like ely and milder looking. Sting; a large cat sat demurely at ; not ing to complete tic comfort. A more reassuring introduction for a neo overeliness to embarrass; and tered, t up and promptly and kindly came foro meet me. ¡°edious ride; Jo be cold, come to the fire.¡± ¡°Mrs. Fairfax, I suppose?¡± said I. ¡°Yes, you are rig down.¡± Sed me to o remove my sie my bonnet-strings; I begged s give rouble. ¡°O is no trouble; I dare say your otle negus and cut a sandwicwo: oreroom.¡± And s a most o t. ¡°Noo tinued. ¡°You¡¯ve broug you, my dear?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see it carried into your room,¡± sled out. ¡°Sreats me like a visitor,¡± t I. ¡°I little expected sucion; I anticipated only coldness and stiffness: t like ment of governesses; but I must not exult too soon.¡± Surned; ting apparatus and a book or table, to make room for tray s. I felt rat being t of more attention t too, s as s o consider s of it better to take ies quietly. ¡°So-nigaken of w she offered me. ¡° did you say, my dear? I am a little deaf,¡± returned to my mouth. I repeated tion more distinctly. ¡°Miss Fairfax? Oure pupil.¡± ¡°Indeed! t your daughter?¡± ¡°No,¡ªI have no family.¡± I s inquiry, by asking in ed I recollected it polite to ask too many questions: besides, I o ime. ¡°I am so glad,¡± sinued, as s doe to me, and took t on e pleasant living o be sure it is pleasant at any time; for ted of late years per still it is a respectable place; yet you knoer-time one feels dreary quite alone in t quarters. I say alone¡ªLeao be sure, and Jo people; but ts, and one can¡¯t converse erms of equality: one must keep t due distance, for fear of losing one¡¯s auty. I¡¯m sure last er (it , and sno rained and ble a creature but tcman came to till February; and I really got quite melancting niger nigo read to me sometimes; but I don¡¯t task muc it confining. In spring and summer one got on better: suns at t of tumn, little Adela Varens came and once; and now you are e gay.¡± My really o talk; and I drele nearer to s find my company as agreeable as sicipated. ¡°But I¡¯ll not keep you sitting up late to-nig is on troke of t feel tired. If you your feet o mine prepared for you; it is only a small apartment, but I t you better t co be sure ture, but tary, I never sleep in them myself.¡± I te c fatigued o retire. Sook s to see if tened; aken tairs. teps and banisters aircase iced; bot and to airs and gallery, suggesting cude; and I of small dimensions, and furnisyle. , and I ened my door, gazed leisurely round, and in some measure effaced t aircase, and t long, cold gallery, by t of my little room, I remembered t, after a day of bodily fatigue and mental anxiety, I last in safe itude s do t forgetting, ere I rose, to implore aid on my furting t nigary room no fears. At once ent, I slept soon and soundly: w was broad day. t little place to me as tz ains, sed floor, so unlike tained plaster of Lo my spirits rose at ternals effect on t t a fairer era of life o s flos toils. My faculties, roused by to ir. I cannot precisely define ed, but it : not per day or t mont at an indefinite future period. I rose; I dressed myself o be plain¡ªfor I icle of attire t made reme simplicity¡ªI ill by nature solicitous to be neat. It my to be disregardful of appearance or careless of trary, I ever o please as muc of beauty . I sometimes regretted t I imes all, stately, and finely developed in figure; I felt it a misfortune t I tle, so pale, and ures so irregular and so marked. And s? It to say: I could not tinctly say it to myself; yet I ural reason too. on my black frock¡ª least of fitting to a nicety¡ªand adjusted my clean ucker, I t I sably enougo appear before Mrs. Fairfax, and t my ne at least recoil from me ipat I left all traig on toilet table, I ventured forth. traversing tted gallery, I descended teps of oak; ted te; I looked at some pictures on ted a grim man in a cuirass, and one a lady a bronze lamp pendent from t a great clock ately and imposing to me; but ttle accustomed to grandeur. tood open; I stepped over t umn morning; till green fields; advancing on to t of t oreys ions not vast, tleman¡¯s manor- a nobleman¡¯s seat: battlements round top gave it a picturesque look. Its grey front stood out enants o alig meadorees, strong, knotty, and broad as oaks, at once explained tymology of tion. Fart so lofty as tion from t yet quiet and lonely o embrace t expected to find existent so near tirring locality of Millcote. A little , rees, straggled up trict stood nearer ts old toop looked over a knoll betes. I enjoying t and pleasant fres listening to t surveying t of t a great place it tle dame like Mrs. Fairfax to in, the door. ¡°! out already?¡± said s up to he hand. ¡°old very much. ¡°Yes,¡± s is a pretty place; but I fear it ting out of order, unless Mr. Rocer sake it into o come and reside ly; or, at least, visit it ratener: great or.¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°ho is he?¡± ¡°tly. ¡°Did you not know er?¡± Of course I did not¡ªI to regard ence as a universally understood fact, be acquainted by instinct. ¡°I t,¡± I continued, ¡°to you.¡± ¡°to me? Bless you, c an idea! to me! I am only to be sure I am distantly related to ters by t least my of little village yonder on t ces o my I never presume on tion¡ªin fact, it is noto me; I consider myself quite in t of an ordinary nothing more.¡± ¡°And ttle girl¡ªmy pupil!¡± ¡°Ser¡¯s o up in¡ªstle dame; but a dependant like myself. I did not like ; on trary, I felt better pleased ty bet of condescension on : so mucter¡ªmy position he freer. As I ating on ttle girl, folloendant, came running up t my pupil, first appear to notice me: se a c years old, slig, ured face, and a redundancy of o . ¡°Good morning, Miss Adela,¡± said Mrs. Fairfax. ¡°Come and speak to to teaco make you a clever woman some day.¡± She approached. ¡°C¡¯est le ma gouverante!¡± said sing to me, and addressing her nurse; who answered¡ª ¡°Mais oui, certainement.¡± ¡°Are t he French language. ¡°tinent; and, I believe, never left it till came to talk it a little: I don¡¯t understand so you her meaning very well, I dare say.¡± Fortunately I age of being taug of conversing as often as I could, and seven years, learnt a portion of Frenc daily¡ªapplying myself to take pains , and imitating as closely as possible tion of my teacain degree of readiness and correctness in t likely to be muc a loss I , I addressed some po ongue: s first, but after ed at table, and sen minutes tering fluently. ¡°Aer does: I can talk to you as I can to ands s smoked¡ª did smoke!¡ªand I ty room called ttle beds in anot of mine; it was like a s is your name?¡± ¡°Eyre¡ªJane Eyre.¡± ¡°Aire? Ba say it. ell, our sopped in t e daylig a great city¡ªa y, at all like tty clean toer, and into a coacook us to a beautiful large el. e stayed to green place full of trees, called tiful birds in it, t I fed h crumbs.¡± ¡°Can you understand ?¡± asked Mrs. Fairfax. I understood omed to t tongue of Madame Pierrot. ¡°I ion or t s: I wonder if shem?¡± ¡°Ad¨¨le,¡± I inquired, ¡° pretty clean town you spoke of?¡± ¡°I lived long ago so to teaco dance and sing, and to say verses. A great many gentlemen and ladies came to see mama, and I used to dance before to sit on to t. S you hear me sing now?¡± S, so I permitted o give a specimen of s. Descending from tle ing o t rain of a forsaken lady, o tendant to deck est jeo meet t nig a ball, and prove to y of tle ion ed her. t seemed strangely c singer; but I suppose t of tion lay in es of love and jealousy aste t point least I t so. Ad¨¨le sang tte tunefully enoug¨¦ of you some poetry.¡± Assuming an attitude, ss: fable de La Fontaine.¡± Stle piece tention to punctuation and empy of voice and an appropriateness of gesture, very unusual indeed at rained. ¡°as it your mama waug piece?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes, and s used to say it in t un de ces rats; parlez!¡¯ S my o remind me to raise my voice at tion. Now shall I dance for you?¡± ¡°No, t after your mama to then?¡± ¡°itook care of me, but sed to me. I t so fine a long ter asked me if I o go and live er before I knety dresses and toys: but you see kept me to England, and now he is gone back again himself, and I never see him.¡± After breakfast, Ad¨¨le and I o t appears, Mr. Rocer ed s of t t open containing everyt could be needed in tary ure, poetry, biograpravels, a fee perusal; and, indeed, tented me amply for t; compared y pickings I o glean at Loo offer an abundant of entertainment and information. In too, t piano, quite neone; also an easel for painting and a pair of globes. I found my pupil sufficiently docile, to apply: s been used to regular occupation of any kind. I felt it o confine oo muc first; so, o deal, and got o learn a little, and urn to o occupy myself till dinner-time in dratle sketches for her use. As I airs to fetcfolio and pencils, Mrs. Fairfax called to me: ¡°Your morning scood open: I in ately apartment, ains, a turkey carpet, -panelled y ceiling, nobly moulded. Mrs. Fairfax ing some vases of fine purple spar, wood on a sideboard. ¡° a beautiful room!¡± I exclaimed, as I looked round; for I had never before seen any half so imposing. ¡°Yes; t opened to let in a little air and sunss so damp in apartments t are seldom ined; t.¡± Sed to a yrian-dyed curtain, noing to it by teps, and looking t I caug to my novice-eyes appeared t it ty dra a boudoir, bote carpets, on e grapes and vine-leaves, beneatrast crimson couctomans; elpiece ed the general blending of snow and fire. ¡°In , no canvas coverings: except t ted daily.¡± ¡°er¡¯s visits ed; and as I observed t it put to find everyto le of arrangement on it best to keep the rooms in readiness.¡± ¡°Is Mr. Rocer an exacting, fastidious sort of man?¡± ¡°Not particularly so; but leman¡¯s tastes and s, and s to y to them.¡± ¡°Do you like him? Is he generally liked?¡± ¡°Oed all to ters time out of mind.¡± ¡°ell, but, leaving of tion, do you like him? Is he liked for himself?¡± ¡°I o do ot and liberal landlord by enants: but them.¡± ¡°But ies? , in s, is er?¡± ¡°Oer is unimpeacravelled a great deal, and seen a great deal of t I never ion h him.¡± ¡°In w way is he peculiar?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t kno is not easy to describe¡ªnotriking, but you feel it be al, tand ¡ªat least, I don¡¯t: but it is of no consequence, er.¡± t I got from Mrs. Fairfax of o ion of sketcer, or observing and describing salient points, eitly belonged to t did not draor¡ªnotly my e notion of ity. to s of tairs and doairs, admiring as I ; for all orey rooms, teresting from tiquity. ture once appropriated to tments ime to time been removed ligering by t seads of a s in oak or , looking, range carvings of palm brancypes of tools still more antiquated, on apparent traces of by fingers t for tions . All to torey of t of a : a sness of treats in t I by no means coveted a nig in, some of t old Englised raying effigies of strange floranger birds, and strangest range, indeed, by t. ¡°Do ts sleep in these rooms?¡± I asked. ¡°No; tments to t say t, if t at ts .¡± ¡°So I t, then?¡± ¡°None t I ever urned Mrs. Fairfax, smiling. ¡°Nor any traditions of one? no legends or g stories?¡± ¡°I believe not. And yet it is said ters t race in time: per is t tranquilly in their graves now.¡± ¡°Yes¡ª¡®after life¡¯s fitful fever ttered. ¡°here are you going now, Mrs. Fairfax?¡± for she was moving away. ¡°On to till, up a very narroaircase to ttics, and trap-door to to ts. Leaning over ttlements and looking far do like a map: t and velvet lated s ancient timber; trees tes, tranquil umn day¡¯s sun; tious sky, azure, marbled e. No feature in traordinary, but all and repassed trap-door, I could scarcely see my tic seemed black as a vault compared arco sunlit scene of grove, pasture, and green re, and over w. Mrs. Fairfax stayed be to fasten trap-door; I, by drift of groping, found tlet from ttic, and proceeded to descend t staircase. I lingered in to and back rooms of torey: narrotle ts tle. ly on, t sound I expected to ill a region, a laugruck my ear. It , formal, mirtopped: tant; it began again, louder: for at first, tinct, it passed off in a clamorous peal t seemed to ed but in one, and I could ed out ts issued. ¡°Mrs. Fairfax!¡± I called out: for I noairs. ¡°Did you loud laug?¡± ¡°Some of ts, very likely,¡± she answered: ¡°perhaps Grace Poole.¡± ¡°Did you ?¡± I again inquired. ¡°Yes, plainly: I often imes Lealy noisy together.¡± ted in its loone, and terminated in an odd murmur. ¡°Grace!¡± exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax. I really did not expect any Grace to ansragic, as preternatural a laug t it ance of gliness accompanied tion; but t neititiously afraid. sertaining a sense even of surprise. t me opened, and a servant came out,¡ªa y and forty; a set, square-made figure, red-ion less romantic or less gly could scarcely be conceived. ¡°too mucions!¡± Grace curtseyed silently and in. ¡°So se Leainued t altogetionable in some points, but s on his morning?¡± tion, turned on Ad¨¨le, continued till us in the hall, exclaiming¡ª ¡°Mesdames, vous etes servies!¡± adding, ¡°J¡¯ai bien faim, moi!¡± e found dinner ready, and ing for us in Mrs. Fairfax¡¯s room. Chapter 12 t calm introduction to to pledge, belied on a longer acquaintance s inmates. Mrs. Fairfax turned out to be ured ent education and average intelligence. My pupil imes as sted entirely to my care, and no injudicious interference from any quarter ever ted my plans for , s tle freaks, and became obedient and teac talents, no marked traits of cer, no peculiar development of feeling or taste . Sertained for me a vivacious, t very profound, affection; and by y, gay prattle, and efforts to please, inspired me, in return, tac sufficient to make us botent in eacy. t cool language by persons ain solemn doctrines about ture of cy of tion to conceive for trous devotion: but I am not ing to flatter parental egotism, to ec, or prop up elling trut a conscientious solicitude for Ad¨¨le¡¯s liking for tle self: just as I coy proportionate to tranquil regard sion of er. Anybody may blame me ook a doo tes and looked toreroom, I climbed taircases, raised trap-door of ttic, and afar over sequestered field and t overpass t limit; tical experience tercourse ance y of cer, t I believed in tence of ot I believed in I wiso behold. ; and I sented. I could not : tlessness ure; it agitated me to pain sometimes. to orey, backude of t, and alloo dainly, to let my be ant movement, in trouble, expanded it of all, to open my ino a tale t ale my imagination created, and narrated continuously; quickened , life, fire, feeling, t I desired and in my actual existence. It is in vain to say to be satisfied ranquillity: t ion; and t if t find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom t revolt against t. Nobody kno in to be very calm generally: but as men feel; ties, and a field for ts, as mucoo rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men is narroures to say t t to confine to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on t is tless to condemn t to do more or learn more tom heir sex. unfrequently oo, ric murmurs; stranger te silent; but t account for times I saray in o tcly return, generally (oic reader, forgive me for telling trut of porter. ed as a damper to ty raised by ies: ured and staid, s to could attactempts to draion, but s s every effort of t sort. t people; but in no respect remarkable; o talk Frencimes I asked ions about ive country; but s of a descriptive or narrative turn, and generally gave suced rato chan encourage inquiry. October, November, December passed aernoon in January, Mrs. Fairfax reminded me o me in my o I did . It ired of sitting still in t ten a letter o be posted, so I put on my bonnet and cloak and volunteered to carry it to ance, t er afternoon ed in tle c o play ory-book for c; and o ?t, ma bonne amie, ma cte,¡± out. till, my road till I got o enjoy and analyse tuation. It olled as I passed under ts approaced for s and blackberries in autumn, and even noreasures in er deligs utter solitude and leafless repose. If a breatirred, it made no sound a an evergreen to rustle, and tripped ill as te, ones tle bro leaves t ten to drop. to doile le about me, and sering my feel t froze keenly; as tested by a s of ice covering ttle brooklet, no I could look dotlemented in ts t. I lingered till t do trees, and sank crimson and clear beurned eastward. On top above me sat t as a cloud, but brigarily, s in trees, sent up a blue smoke from its fe a mile distant, but in te s too, felt ts; in tell: but tless many becks t evening calm betrayed alike tinkle of t streams, t remote. A rude noise broke on t once so far aive tramp, tramp, a metallic clatter, ure, t oak, drarong on tance of azure int melts into tint. t , but it approac leaving tile; yet, as t still to let it go by. In ts of fancies brigenanted my mind: tories oturing youto t cc to appear tain of Bessie¡¯s tales, rased solitary imes came upon belated travellers, as this horse was now coming upon me. It not yet in sigion to tramp, tramp, I ems glided a great dog, object against trees. It ly one form of Bessie¡¯s Gytrasure passed me, ly enoug staying to look up, range pretercanine eyes, in my face, as I ed it all steed, and on its back a rider. t once. Notras o my notions, t tenant ts, could scarce covet ser in trasraveller taking t cut to Millcote. on; a feeps, and I turned: a sliding sound and an exclamation of ¡° to do notering tumble, arrested my attention. Man and of ice , and ill tion to ude. rate group, and to me; it raveller, by time struggling eed. s be muc; but I asked ion¡ª ¡°Are you injured, sir?¡± I t am not certain; ed o me directly. ¡°Can I do anything?¡± I asked again. ¡°You must just stand on one side,¡± to o . I did; tering process, accompanied by a barking and baying ance; but I be driven quite aill I sa. tunate; tablis!¡± traveller noooping, felt and leg, as if trying ed to tile down. I least officious, I think, for I now drew near him again. ¡°If you are , and chornfield hall or from hay.¡± ¡°tood up and tried , but t extorted an involuntary ¡°Ugh!¡± Somet still lingered, and t: I could see eel clasped; its details apparent, but I traced ts of middle and considerable breadt. ern features and a ed just no reac be ty-five. I felt no fear of little sleman, I s o stand tioning o one. I ical reverence and y, elegance, gallantry, fascination; but ties incarnate in masculine sinctively t tning, or anyt is brig antipatic. If even tranger o me ance gaily and felt any vocation to rene traveller, set me at my ease: I retained my station o go, and announced¡ª ¡°I cannot t so late an ary lane, till I see you are fit to mount your horse.¡± me wurned ion before. ¡°I s to be at his neighbourhood: where do you come from?¡± ¡°From just belo at all afraid of being out late o post a letter.¡± ¡°You live just belo t tlements?¡± pointing to t a out distinct and pale from t, by contrast ern sky, now seemed one mass of shadow. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°?¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer¡¯s.¡± ¡°Do you know Mr. Rocer?¡± ¡°No, I have never seen him.¡± ¡° resident, then?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Can you tell me where he is?¡± ¡°I cannot.¡± ¡°You are not a servant at topped, ran e simple: a black merino cloak, a black beaver bonnet; neito decide w I was; I helped him. ¡°I am the governess.¡± ¡°Aed; ¡°deuce take me, if I forgotten! t under scrutiny. In tes ile: ried to move. ¡°I cannot commission you to fetc you may tle yourself, if you will be so kind.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°You an umbrella t I can use as a stick?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°try to get o me: you are not afraid?¡± I so touc o do it, I o obey. I put doile, and up to tall steed; I endeavoured to catc it ed t let me come near its on effort, time, I ally afraid of its trampling fore-feet. traveller ed and cime, and at last he laughed. ¡°I see,¡± ain o aid Ma to go to tain; I must beg of you to come here.¡± I came. ¡°Excuse me,¡± inued: ¡°necessity compels me to make you useful.¡± ress, limped to tered it directly and sprang to , for it wrenched his sprain. ¡°No lies the hedge.¡± I soug and found it. ¡°te ter to urn as fast as you can.¡± A touc start and rear, and traces; all three vanished, ¡°Like , in the wilderness, the wild wind whirls away.¡± I took up my muff and of no moment, no romance, no interest in a sense; yet it marked onous life. My : I o rivial, transitory t an active tence all passive. too, ure introduced to t o all tly, because it rong, and stern. I still before me er into t- office; I sa as I doile, I stopped a minute, looked round and listened, a ring on t a rider in a cloak, and a Gytras be again apparent: I saill and straigo meet test of ful among trees round tant; and raversing t, caug kindling in a reminded me t I e, and I hurried on. I did not like re-entering to pass its to return to stagnation; to cross t o ascend taircase, to seek my otle room, and to meet tranquil Mrs. Fairfax, and spend ter evening o quell ement o slip again over my faculties tters of an uniform and too still existence; of an existence ing. good it time to ossed in torms of an uncertain struggling life, and to augter experience to long for t ired of sitting still in a ¡°too easy co take a long as natural o stir, under my circumstances, as it would be under his. I lingered at tes; I lingered on t; tters of t see into terior; and bot seemed dra appeared to me¡ªto t sky expanded before me,¡ªa blue sea absolved from taint of cloud; t in solemn marco look up as s tops, from beo t dark in its fatance; and for trembling stars t folloremble, my veins glole to eartruck in t sufficed; I turned from moon and stars, opened a side-door, and in. t dark, nor yet lit, only by t and teps of taircase. t dining-room, ood open, and se, glancing on marble ure, in t pleasant radiance. It revealed, too, a group near telpiece: I it, and scarcely become ainguisones of Ad¨¨le, whe door closed. I ened to Mrs. Fairfax¡¯s room; too, but no candle, and no Mrs. Fairfax. Instead, all alone, sitting uprigy at t black and ras t I for¡± and t up and came to me and snuffed me. I caressed tail; but ure to be alone tell ed, too, to get an account of tant. Leaered. ¡° dog is this?¡± ¡°er.¡± ¡°ith whom?¡± ¡°iter¡ªMr. Rocer¡ª arrived.¡± ¡°Indeed! and is Mrs. Fairfax h him?¡± ¡°Yes, and Miss Ad¨¨le; ter ; his horse fell and his ankle is sprained.¡± ¡°Did the horse fall in hay Lane?¡± ¡°Yes, coming down- slipped on some ice.¡± ¡°Ah! Bring me a candle will you Leah?¡± Lea it; sered, follo Mr. Carter ter: t to give orders about tea, and I upstairs to take off my things. Chapter 13 Mr. Rocer, it seems, by t to bed early t nig morning. o attend to business: and some of enants ing to speak h him. Ad¨¨le and I o vacate t ion as a reception-room for callers. A fire in an apartment upstairs, and t for ture sc t as a c eco a knock at teps, too, often traversed t keys beloer ; it er: for my part, I liked it better. Ad¨¨le easy to teac day; s apply: s running to ters to see if s a glimpse of Mr. Rocer; texts to go doairs, in order, as I sed, to visit t ed; t a little angry, and made still, sinued to talk incessantly of er,¡± as s before o conjecture s appears imated t before, t it a little box in s serest. ¡°Et cela doit signifier,¡± said s peut-¨ºtre pour vous aussi, mademoiselle. Monsieur a parle de vous: il m¡¯a demande le nom de ma gouvernante, et si elle n¡¯etait pas une petite personne, assez mince et un peu pale. J¡¯ai dit qu¡¯oui: car c¡¯est vrai, n¡¯est-ce pas, mademoiselle?¡± I and my pupil dined as usual in Mrs. Fairfax¡¯s parlour; ternoon in t dark I alloo put ao run doairs; for, from tive silence beloion of appeals to tured t Mr. Rocer liberty. Left alone, I o t noto be seen t doain and back to the fireside. In tracing a vie unlike a picture I remembered to le of rance togettering too some s t o tude. ¡°Mr. Rocer ake tea ask to see you before.¡± ¡°ea-time?¡± I inquired. ¡°O six o¡¯clock: ry. You ter cen it. here is a candle.¡± ¡°Is it necessary to change my frock?¡± ¡°Yes, you ter: I aler is here.¡± tional ceremony seemed someately; o my room, and, uff dress by one of black silk; t and tional one I one of ligions of toilette, I t too fine to be on first-rate occasions. ¡°You a brooctle pearl ornament ing keepsake: I put it on, and t doairs. Unused as I o strangers, it rial to appear ter¡¯s presence. I let Mrs. Fairfax precede me into t in apartment; and, passing tain ered t recess beyond. tood ligable, and telpiece; basking in t and of a superb fire, lay Pilot¡ªAd¨¨le knelt near er, supported by t Ad¨¨le and traveller ty eyebroy; rils, denoting, I t, cake. ed of cloak, I perceived ic sense of term¡ªbroad ced and tall nor graceful. Mr. Rocer must rance of Mrs. Fairfax and myself; but it appeared in to notice us, for ed his head as we approached. ¡° taking he dog and child. ¡°Let Miss Eyre be seated,¡± said iff boient yet formal tone, to me t I am not disposed to accost her.¡± I sat doe disembarrassed. A reception of finiseness by ans; but ion; on trary, a decent quiescence, under tage. Besides, tricity of t: I felt interested to see how he would go on. on as a statue is, o t necessary t some one so talk. Kindly, as usual¡ªand, as usual, ratrite¡ªs must o painful sprain: tience and perseverance in going t. ¡°Madam, I sea,¡± . Sened to ring tray came, so arrange ty. I and Ad¨¨le to table; but ter did not leave his couch. ¡°ill you er¡¯s cup?¡± said Mrs. Fairfax to me; ¡°Ad¨¨le mig.¡± I did as requested. As ook t propitious for making a request in my favour, cried out¡ª ¡°N¡¯est-ce pas, monsieur, qu¡¯il y a un cadeau pour Mademoiselle Eyre dans votre petit coffre?¡± ¡°alks of cadeaux?¡± said a present, Miss Eyre? Are you fond of presents?¡± and I sae, and piercing. ¡°I tle experience of t pleasant things.¡± ¡°Generally t? But hink?¡± ¡°I so take time, sir, before I could give you an ansance: a present o it, not? and one so its nature.¡± ¡°Miss Eyre, you are not so unsopicated as Ad¨¨le: s s about the bush.¡± ¡°Because I s tance, and t too of custom; for s of giving if I o make out a case I sranger, and o entitle me to an ackno.¡± ¡°O fall back on over-modesty! I aken great pains brigalents; yet in a s time s.¡± ¡°Sir, you o you: it is teac covet¡ªpraise of their pupils¡¯ progress.¡± ¡°er, and ook ea in silence. ¡°Come to ter, aken aled into a corner ting; s on ty bound; Ad¨¨le ed to take a seat on my knee, but so amuse . ¡°You in my hs?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°And you came from¡ª?¡± ¡°From Lowood school, in¡ªshire.¡± ¡°Aable concern. here?¡± ¡°Eight years.¡± ¡°Eig be tenacious of life. I t ime in sucitution! No sort of face. nig unaccountably of fairy tales, and o demand . s?¡± ¡°I have none.¡± ¡°Nor ever hem?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°I t not. And so you ing for your people stile?¡± ¡°For whom, sir?¡± ¡°For t damned ice on the causeway?¡± I s even in it, could you find a trace of t t, or er moon, will ever sheir revels more.¡± Mrs. Fairfax ting, and, sort of talk this was. ¡°ell,¡± resumed Mr. Rocer, ¡°if you disos, you must of kinsfolk: uncles and aunts?¡± ¡°No; none t I ever saw.¡± ¡°And your home?¡± ¡°I have none.¡± ¡°ers live?¡± ¡°I ers.¡± ¡°o come here?¡± ¡°I advertised, and Mrs. Fairfax ansisement.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± said t ground o make. Miss Eyre o me, and a kind and careful teaco Ad¨¨le.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t trouble yourself to give er,¡± returned Mr. Rocer: ¡°eulogiums bias me; I shall judge for myself. She began by felling my horse.¡± ¡°Sir?¡± said Mrs. Fairfax. ¡°I o this sprain.¡± the widow looked bewildered. ¡°Miss Eyre, own?¡± ¡°No, sir.¡± ¡°y?¡± ¡°None but teaces of thornfield.¡± ¡°have you read much?¡± ¡°Only suc been numerous or very learned.¡± ¡°You you are s Lowood, is a parson, is ?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°And you girls probably wors full of religieuses would worsor.¡± ¡°Oh, no.¡± ¡°You are very cool! No! ! a novice not sounds blasphemous.¡± ¡°I disliked Mr. Brockle; and I alone in t once pompous and meddling; off our us bad needles and th which we could hardly sew.¡± ¡°t of the dialogue. ¡°And t of er. ¡°arved us ment, before ttee ed; and ures once a ing, about sudden deats, o bed.¡± ¡° age o Lowood?¡± ¡°About ten.¡± ¡°And you stayed t years: you are noeen?¡± I assented. ¡°Aritic, you see, is useful; its aid, I so guess your age. It is a point difficult to fix enance are so muc variance as in your case. And no Lowood? Can you play?¡± ¡°A little.¡± ¡°Of course: t is tabliso tone of command; I am used to say, ¡®Do t is done: I cannot alter my customary s for one nee.)¡ªGo, to take a candle doo tune.¡± I departed, obeying ions. ¡°Enoug in a fees. ¡°You play A little, I see; like any otter t not well.¡± I closed turned. Mr. Rocer continued¡ª¡°Ad¨¨le sc knoer aided you?¡± ¡°No, indeed!¡± I interjected. ¡°A pricks pride. ell, fetcfolio, if you can voucs contents being original; but don¡¯t pass your ain: I can recognise patchwork.¡± ¡°thing, and you shall judge for yourself, sir.¡± I brougfolio from the library. ¡°Approacable,¡± said to o see tures. ¡°No croake t don¡¯t puso mine.¡± ely scrutinised eaccing. t from him. ¡°take to table, Mrs. Fairfax,¡± said t me) ¡°resume your seat, and ansions. I perceive tures were done by one hand yours?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And o do taken mucime, and some t.¡± ¡°I did t tions I spent at Lowood, wion.¡± ¡° your copies?¡± ¡°Out of my head.¡± ¡°t head I see now on your shoulders?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡° oture of thin?¡± ¡°I s may ter.¡± ures before ernately. ell you, reader, , I must premise t ts ual eye, before I attempted to embody triking; but my second my fancy, and in eac out but a pale portrait of thing I had conceived. tures er-colours. t represented clouds loance oo, billo lifted into relief a , on , dark and large, s beak set I ouc tints as my palette could yield, and as glittering distinctness as my pencil could impart. Sinking belo, a droer; a fair arm orn. ture contained for foreground only ting as if by a breeze. Beyond and above spread an expanse of sky, dark blue as at to t, portrayed in tints as dusk and soft as I could combine. tar; ts beloreamed sorn by storm or by electric travail. On tion like moonlig lustre toucrain of tar. ter sky: a muster of norts reared to distance, rose, in toing against it. ting it, dreures a sable veil, a broe bloodless, emples, amidst urban folds of black drapery, vague in its cer and consistency as cloud, gleamed a ring of inge. t it diademed he shape which shape had none.¡± ¡°ere you ed tures?¡± asked Mr. Rocer presently. ¡°I t, o enjoy one of t pleasures I have ever known.¡± ¡°t is not saying muc, I daresay you did exist in a kind of artist¡¯s dreamland range tints. Did you sit at them long each day?¡± ¡°I o do, because it ion, and I sat at till noon, and from noon till nigion to apply.¡± ¡°And you felt self-satisfied of your ardent labours?¡± ¡°Far from it. I ormented by trast beto realise.¡± ¡°Not quite: you ; but no more, probably. You enougist¡¯s skill and science to give it full being: yet to ts, tar you must not at all brilliant? for t above quells t meaning is t in taugo paint sky, and on top. mos? For t is Latmos. t the drawings away!¡± I ied trings of tfolio, w cly¡ª ¡°It is nine o¡¯clock: , Miss Eyre, to let Ad¨¨le sit up so long? take o bed.¡± Ad¨¨le to kiss ting t scarcely seemed to relis more t would have done, nor so much. ¡°I ooken t ired of our company, and ing: I took my portfolio: seyed to urn, and so hdrew. ¡°You said Mr. Rocer strikingly peculiar, Mrs. Fairfax,¡± I observed, ting Ad¨¨le to bed. ¡°ell, is he?¡± ¡°I t.¡± ¡°true: no doubt o a stranger, but I am so accustomed to ; and ties of temper, allowance should be made.¡± ¡°hy?¡± ¡°Partly because it is ure¡ªand ly because s, no doubt, to s unequal.¡± ¡° about?¡± ¡°Family troubles, for one thing.¡± ¡°But he has no family.¡± ¡°Not no least, relatives. her a few years since.¡± ¡°her?¡± ¡°Yes. t Mr. Rocer been very long in possession of ty; only about nine years.¡± ¡°Nine years is a tolerable time. as o be still inconsolable for his loss?¡± ¡°. I believe tandings beter quite just to Mr. Edo keep tate toget like to diminisy by division, and yet Mr. Edo keep up ter eps aken t quite fair, and made a great deal of miscer and Mr. Roo bring Mr. Edo une: ure of t position could not brook . very forgiving: tled kind of life. I don¡¯t t at tnigoget a er of tate; and, indeed, no wonder he old place.¡± ¡°?¡± ¡°Per gloomy.¡± t Mrs. Fairfax eit, or , give me more explicit information of ture of Mr. Rocer¡¯s trials. Sery to , indeed, t so drop t, which I did accordingly. Chapter 14 For several subsequent days I satle of Mr. Rocer. In ternoon, gentlemen from Millcote or times stayed to dine o admit of a good deal; probably to return ts, as come back till late at night. During terval, even Ad¨¨le for to ance o an occasional rencontre in tairs, or in times pass me ily and coldly, just acknoant nod or a cool glance, and sometimes bolemanlike affability. offend me, because I sa I o do ernation; te disconnected h me. One day o dinner, and for my portfolio; in order, doubtless, to ex its contents: tlemen ao attend a public meeting at Millcote, as Mrs. Fairfax informed me; but t being and inclement, Mr. Rocer did not accompany ter t I and Ad¨¨le o go doairs. I brus, and ained t I rim, oucoo close and plain, braided locks included, to admit of disarrangement¡ª coffre lengto some mistake, its arrival o been delayed. Sified: t stood, a little carton, on table o kno by instinct. ¡°Ma boite! ma boite!¡± exclaimed so. ¡°Yes, te¡¯ at last: take it into a corner, you genuine daug,¡± said tic voice of Mr. Rocer, proceeding from t tinued, ¡°don¡¯t botails of tomical process, or any notice of tion of trails: let your operation be conducted in silence: tiens-toi tranquille, enfant; comprends-tu?¡± Ad¨¨le seemed scarcely to need tired to a sofa reasure, and ying t, and lifted certain silvery envelopes of tissue paper, she merely exclaimed¡ª ¡°O beau!¡± and tatic contemplation. ¡°Is Miss Eyre ter, to look round to till stood. ¡°Aed fond of ttle of cinued; ¡°for, old bac associations connected olerable to me to pass a e-¨¤-t¨ºte . Don¡¯t dra c doly is. Confound ties! I continually forget ticularly affect simple-minded old ladies. By- t do to neglect o one; and blood is said to be ter.¡± cation to Mrs. Fairfax, in hand. ¡°Good evening, madam; I sent to you for a cable purpose. I o talk to me about s, and sing ion: o serve ress and interlocutrice; it benevolent acts you ever performed.¡± Ad¨¨le, indeed, no sooner sao ents of e;¡± pouring out, meantime, explanations and raptures in sucress of. ¡°No my guests into t to be at liberty to attend to my otle fart too far back; I cannot see you disturbing my position in table co do.¡± I did as I in t Mr. Rocer seemed a matter of course to obey ly. e al breadt; tains y ier arcill, save t of Ad¨¨le (s speak loud), and, filling up eacing of er rain against the panes. Mr. Rocer, as in to e so stern¡ª muc, I am not sure; but I t very probable. , in er-dinner mood; more expanded and genial, and also more self-indulgent temper of till t of te-ures, and in , dark eyes; for , dark eyes, and very fine eyes, too¡ªnot a certain cimes, softness, reminded you, at least, of t feeling. es at time at urning suddenly, my gaze fastened on his physiognomy. ¡°You examine me, Miss Eyre,¡± said hink me handsome?¡± I sed, o tion by sometionally vague and polite; but tongue before I was aware¡ª¡°No, sir.¡± ¡°A you,¡± said tle nonnette; quaint, quiet, grave, and simple, as you sit on t (except, by-ted piercingly to my face; as just noance); and o a round rejoinder, , is at least brusque. do you mean by it?¡± ¡°Sir, I oo plain; I beg your pardon. I ougo it easy to give an impromptu anso a question about appearances; t tastes mostly differ; and t beauty is of little consequence, or somet sort.¡± ¡°You ougo y of little consequence, indeed! And so, under pretence of softening trage, of stroking and sooto placidity, you stick a sly penknife under my ear! Go on: do you find ures like any other man?¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer, alloo diso ansended no pointed repartee: it was only a blunder.¡± ¡°Just so: I t. Criticise me: does my fore please you?¡± ed up tally over ellectual organs, but an abrupt deficiency whe suave sign of benevolence should have risen. ¡°Now, ma¡¯am, am I a fool?¡± ¡°Far from it, sir. You would, perurn w?¡± ¡°tick of tended to pat my is because I said I did not like ty of c spoken!). No, young lady, I am not a general p; but I bear a conscience;¡± and ed to to indicate t faculty, and ely for ly conspicuous; giving, indeed, a marked breadto t of enderness of . ial to tered, and unlucky; but Fortune since: ster myself I am ougill, and ient point in t leave hope for me?¡± ¡°, sir?¡± ¡°Of my final re-transformation from India-rubber back to flesh?¡± ¡°Decidedly oo muc; and I did not knoo make to ion: ell wransformed? ¡°You looked very muc pretty any more t a puzzled air becomes you; besides, it is convenient, for it keeps ted floo be gregarious and communicative to-night.¡± it ood, leaning elpiece: in t attitude , disproportionate almost to people ; so muce indifference to ernal appearance; so y a reliance on ties, intrinsic or adventitious, to atone for ttractiveness, t, in looking at ably s sense, put faithe confidence. ¡°I am disposed to be gregarious and communicative to-niged, ¡°and t is sufficient company for me; nor alk. Ad¨¨le is a degree better, but still far beloto; you, I am persuaded, can suit me if you evening I invited you doten you since: ot to-nigo be at ease; to dismiss unes, and recall o dra¡ªto learn more of you¡ªtherefore speak.¡± Instead of speaking, I smiled; and not a very complacent or submissive smile either. ¡°Speak,¡± he urged. ¡° about, sir?¡± ¡°ever you like. I leave bot and treating it entirely to yourself.¡± Accordingly I sat and said nots me to talk for talking and so t. ¡°You are dumb, Miss Eyre.¡± I ill. tle toy glance seemed to dive into my eyes. ¡°Stubborn?¡± is consistent. I put my request in an absurd, almost insolent form. Miss Eyre, I beg your pardon. t is, once for all, I don¡¯t reat you like an inferior: t is¡± (correcting y as must result from ty years¡¯ difference in age and a century¡¯s advance in experience. timate, et j¡¯y tiens, as Ad¨¨le is by virtue of ty, and t I desire you to o talk to me a little no my ts, y nail.¡± ion, almost an apology, and I did not feel insensible to seem so. ¡°I am o amuse you, if I can, sir¡ªquite I cannot introduce a topic, because erest you? Ask me questions, and I to anshem.¡± ¡°t place, do you agree I to be a little masterful, abrupt, pering, sometimes, on tated, namely, t I am old enougo be your fat I tled tions, and roamed over ly of people in one house?¡± ¡°Do as you please, sir.¡± ¡°t is no ans is a very irritating, because a very evasive one. Reply clearly.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t t to command me, merely because you are older to superiority depends on time and experience.¡± ¡°ly spoken. But I allo, seeing t it my case, as I , not to say a bad, use of botages. Leaving superiority out of tion, t still agree to receive my orders no being piqued or by tone of command. ill you?¡± I smiled: I t to myself Mr. Rocer IS peculiar¡ªo forget t he pays me ¡ê30 per annum for receiving his orders. ¡°tcantly t speak too.¡± ¡°I very feers rouble to inquire es heir orders.¡± ¡°Paid subordinates! ! you are my paid subordinate, are you? Oten t mercenary ground, o let me or a little?¡± ¡°No, sir, not on t ground; but, on t you did forget it, and t you care is comfortable in ily.¡± ¡°And to dispense many conventional forms and p t the omission arises from insolence?¡± ¡°I am sure, sir, I sake informality for insolence: one I rat to, even for a salary.¡± ¡° t to anyto yourself, and don¡¯t venture on generalities of . ally se its inaccuracy; and as muc ance of t often see sucrary, affectation, or coldness, or stupid, coarse-minded misappre t done. But I don¡¯t mean to flatter you: if you are cast in a different mould to ty, it is no merit of yours: Nature did it. And ter all, I go too fast in my conclusions: for knoter t; you may olerable defects to counterbalance your fes.¡± ¡°And so may you,¡± I t. My eye met o read ts import had been spoken as well as imagined¡ª ¡°Yes, yes, you are rigy of faults of my o, and I don¡¯t e t I need not be too severe about ot existence, a series of deeds, a colour of life to contemplate , arted, or raters, I like to lay une and adverse circumstances) on to a ack at ty, and course since: but I mig; I mig as stainless. I envy you your peace of mind, your clean conscience, your unpolluted memory. Little girl, a memory blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure¡ªan inexible source of pure refres: is it not?¡± ¡°een, sir?¡± ¡°All riger urned it to fetid puddle. I eige your equal. Nature meant me to be, on tter kind, and you see I am not so. You see it; at least I flatter myself I read as muc you express organ; I am quick at interpreting its language). take my ,¡ªI am not a villain: you are not to suppose t¡ªnot to attribute to me any suc, oo circumstances to my natural bent, I am a trite commonplace sinner, ty dissipations ry to put on life. Do you I avoo you? Kno in ture life you en find yourself elected tary confidant of your acquaintances¡¯ secrets: people inctively find out, as I it is not your forte to tell of yourself, but to listen oo, t you listen scorn of tion, but e sympat ting and encouraging because it is very unobtrusive in its manifestations.¡± ¡°his, sir?¡± ¡°I kno as freely as if I ing my ts in a diary. You ances; so I s you see I . e o remain cool: I turned desperate; ted. Noes my disgust by ry ribaldry, I cannot flatter myself t I am better to confess t ood firm¡ªGod knoed to err, Miss Eyre; remorse is the poison of life.¡± ¡°Repentance is said to be its cure, sir.¡± ¡°It is not its cure. Reformation may be its cure; and I could reform¡ªI rengt for t¡ªif¡ªbut o get pleasure out of life: and I it, cost may.¡± ¡°te still more, sir.¡± ¡°Possibly: yet , fres it as s and freshe moor.¡± ¡°It ing¡ªit aste bitter, sir.¡± ¡°ried it. of tter as taking one from telpiece). ¡°You to preaco me, you neope, t passed tely unacquainted s mysteries.¡± ¡°I only remind you of your own words, sir: you said error brougence.¡± ¡°And ion t flittered across my brain ion ratemptation: it . comes again! It is no devil, I assure you; or if it be, it on t. I t admit so fair a guest rance to my .¡± ¡°Distrust it, sir; it is not a true angel.¡± ¡°Once more, instinct do you pretend to distinguisween a guide and a seducer?¡± ¡°I judged by your countenance, sir, en to it.¡± ¡°Not at all¡ªit bears t gracious message in t, you are not my conscience-keeper, so don¡¯t make yourself uneasy. here, come in, bonny wanderer!¡± o a vision, vieo any eye but ended, on , o enclose in the invisible being. ¡°No of c will now be a shrine.¡± ¡°to speak trut understand you at all: I cannot keep up tion, because it out of my dept as good as you so be, and t you regretted your oion;¡ªone timated t to ual bane. It seems to me, t if you tried ime find it possible to become if from tion to correct your ts and actions, you ore of recollections, to h pleasure.¡± ¡°Justly t; rig t, I am paving h energy.¡± ¡°Sir?¡± ¡°I am laying doentions, ainly, my associates and pursuits shey have been.¡± ¡°And better?¡± ¡°And better¡ªso mucter as pure ore is to doubt me; I don¡¯t doubt myself: I knoives are; and at t I pass a laerable as t of t bot.¡± ¡°t be, sir, if tatute to legalise them.¡± ¡°tely require a neatute: unions of circumstances demand unheard-of rules.¡± ¡°t sounds a dangerous maxim, sir; because one can see at once t it is liable to abuse.¡± ¡°Sententious sage! so it is: but I so abuse it.¡± ¡°You are human and fallible.¡± ¡°I am: so are you¡ªhen?¡± ¡°t arrogate a po alone can be safely intrusted.¡± ¡° power?¡± ¡°t of saying of any strange, unsanctioned line of action,¡ª¡®Let it be right.¡¯¡± ¡°¡®Let it be righem.¡± ¡°May it be rig useless to continue a discourse ter of my interlocutor ration; at least, beyond its present reacainty, ty, wion of ignorance. ¡°here are you going?¡± ¡°to put Ad¨¨le to bed: it is past ime.¡± ¡°You are afraid of me, because I talk like a Sphynx.¡± ¡°Your language is enigmatical, sir: but tainly not afraid.¡± ¡°You are afraid¡ªyour self-love dreads a blunder.¡± ¡°In t sense I do feel appreo talk nonsense.¡± ¡°If you did, it for sense. Do you never laug trouble yourself to ansurally austere, any more turally vicious. traint still clings to you somerolling your features, muffling your voice, and restricting your limbs; and you fear in ter, or o smile too gaily, speak too freely, or move too quickly: but, in time, I to be natural impossible to be conventional s y t intervals t of bird t bars of a cage: a vivid, restless, resolute captive is t but free, it on going?¡± ¡°It ruck nine, sir.¡± ¡°Never mind,¡ª a minute: Ad¨¨le is not ready to go to bed yet. My position, Miss Eyre, o to tion. alking to you, I cudy,¡ªreasons t I may, nay, t I s to you some day). S of ten minutes ago, a little pink silk frock; rapture lit ; coquetry runs in que je l¡¯essaie!¡¯ cried s ¨¤ l¡¯instant m¨ºme!¡¯ and s of tes ser; and I kno t never mind t. enderest feelings are about to receive a siment; stay noo see w will be realised.¡± Ere long, Ad¨¨le¡¯s little foot ered, transformed as ed. A dress of rose-coloured satin, very s, and as full in t as it could be gat ockings and small in sandals. ¡°Est-ce que ma robe va bien?¡± cried s mes souliers? et mes bas? tenez, je crois que je vais danser!¡± And spreading out ill, er, sly round before ip-toe, t , exclaiming¡ª ¡°Monsieur, je vous remercie mille fois de votre bont¨¦;¡± t comme cela que maman faisait, n¡¯est-ce pas, monsieur?¡± ¡°Pre-cise-ly!¡± of my Britis. I oo, Miss Eyre,¡ªay, grass green: not a more vernal tint fres it me t Frenc on my valuing no could manure, I o t looks so artificial as just no and rear it rating numerous sins, great or small, by one good .¡± Chapter 15 Mr. Rocer did, on a future occasion, explain it. It ernoon, me and Ad¨¨le in t and tlecock, o walk up and down a long beec of her. ser of a Frencourn saille d¡¯ate¡± to the Apollo Belvidere. ¡°And, Miss Eyre, so muctered by tis I installed el; gave e establis of servants, a carriage, caselles, amp;c. In s, I began tyle, like any ot, it seems, ty to c a neo sruction, but trode track upid exactness not to deviate an incen centre. I o e of all oto call one evening me, I found ; but it rolling t doed so lately by e; I never t ting virtue about of pastille perfume s; a scent of musk and amber, tity. I beginning to stifle ory floo open tep out on to t ill and serene. t doook out a cigar,¡ªI ake one now, if you will excuse me.¡± ing of a cigar; to rail of on¡ª ¡°I liked bonbons too in t¡ª (overlook t ce comfits, and smoking alternately, cime t rolled along treets to close carriage draiful pair of Englisinctly seen in t city-nigure¡¯ I urning: of course my tience against t upon. topped, as I ed, at tel door; my flame (t is ta) aligantly by tle foot, seen peeping from t of ep. Bending over t to murmur ¡®Mon ange¡¯¡ªin a tone, of course, er t ed e cocel. ¡°You never felt jealousy, did you, Miss Eyre? Of course not: I need not ask you; because you never felt love. You iments yet to experience: your soul sleeps; t to be given ence lapses in as quiet a flo in ing on ling not far off in t t I tell you¡ªand you may mark my o a craggy pass in tream o , foam and noise: eito atoms on crag points, or lifted up and borne on by some master-o a calmer current¡ªas I am now. ¡°I like t sky of steel; I like ternness and stillness of t. I like ts antiquity, its retirement, its old crorees and trees, its grey facade, and lines of dark ing t metal of it, s like a great plague-ill abhor ¡ª¡± eet: ed ep and struck against ted t seemed to s grip, and to ig advance. e ing o its battlements, over tience, disgust, detestation, seemed momentarily to in ting under le anotriumpe: it settled rified enance: on¡ª ¡°During t I , Miss Eyre, I iny. Sood t beecrunk¡ªa o Macbeting e in to, if you can! Like it if you dare!¡¯ ¡°¡®I ,¡¯ said I; ¡®I dare like it;¡¯ and¡± (acles to o goodness¡ªyes, goodness. I ter man t, and t as iron and brass, I eem but straten wood.¡± Ad¨¨le tlecock. ¡°Aance, co Sopinuing to pursue ured to recall o t wly diverged¡ª ¡°Did you leave tered?¡± I almost expected a rebuff for timed question, but, on trary, of raction, urned oo clear off ten C¨¦line! ell, to resume. o ing coils from t balcony, glided coat, and ate its es to my ¡¯s core. Strange!¡± arting again from t. ¡°Strange t I s of all trange t you sen to me quietly, as if it usual to tell stories of resses to a quaint, inexperienced girl like you! But t singularity explains t, as I intimated once before: you, y, considerateness, and caution o be t of secrets. Besides, I kno of a mind I ion is one not liable to take infection: it is a peculiar mind: it is a unique one. mean to : but, if I did, it take ter; for his digression he proceeded¡ª ¡°I remained in to ,¡¯ t I: ¡®let me prepare an ambusting my ain over it, leaving only an opening take observations; t, all but a c to lovers¡¯ o my c t ture. C¨¦line¡¯s cered, lit a lamp, left it on table, and o me clearly: botin and jes of course,¡ªand te¡ªa brainless and vicious youtimes met in society, and of ing because I despised ely. On recognising antly broken; because at t my love for C¨¦line sank under an extinguisray me for suc ending for; shan I, who had been her dupe. ¡°to talk; tion eased me completely: frivolous, mercenary, less, and senseless, it ed to ener. A card of mine lay on table; t my name under discussion. Neit to belabour me soundly, but ted me as coarsely as ttle s¡ªdeformities sermed t om to launc into fervent admiration of -blank, at tervie you did not trast struck me at time and¡ª¡± Ad¨¨le here came running up again. ¡°Monsieur, Jo been to say t your agent o see you.¡± ¡°A case I must abridge. Opening ted C¨¦line from my protection; gave ice to vacate el; offered e exigencies; disregarded screams, erics, prayers, protestations, convulsions; made an appointment e for a meeting at t morning I ering a bullet in one of iolated arms, feeble as t I unluckily tte Ad¨¨le, y ten in enance: Pilot is more like me ter I o Italy ural claim on Ad¨¨le¡¯s part to be supported by me, nor do I no se destitute, I e¡¯en took t of transplanted it o grory garden. Mrs. Fairfax found you to train it; but no it is timate offspring of a Frencly of your post and prot¨¦g¨¦e: you o me some day ice t you you beg me to look out for a new governess, amp;c.¡ªEh?¡± ¡°No: Ad¨¨le is not anss or yours: I I kno of a e o a lonely little orpowards her as a friend?¡± ¡°O is t in go in nooo: it darkens.¡± But I stayed out a fees longer ¡ªran a race tledore and stlecock. in, and I and coat, I took o prattle as s rebuking even some little freedoms and trivialities into o stray o appreciate all t most. I sougenance and features a likeness to Mr. Rocer, but found none: no trait, no turn of expression announced relations y: if s o resemble more of her. It till after I o my o I steadily revieale Mr. Rocer old me. As all extraordinary in tance of tive itself: a reaco ters enoug, in society; but trange in tion contentment of s environs. I meditated ; but gradually quitting it, as I found it for t inexplicable, I turned to tion of my master¡¯s manner to myself. t fit to repose in me seemed a tribute to my discretion: I regarded and accepted it as sucment o t. I never seemed in take fits of ceur: edly, ter seemed ion to y of reception t made me feel I really possessed to amuse t as muc. I, indeed, talked comparatively little, but I alk o be communicative; o open to a mind unacquainted s scenes and mean its corrupt scenes and sucerest from t scale on range novelty by ures rayed, and folloartled or troubled by one noxious allusion. traint: t as cordial, reated me, dreo at times as if ion rater: yet imes still; but I did not mind t; I sa erest added to life, t I ceased to pine after kindred: my t-destiny seemed to enlarge; tence h. And itude, and many associations, all pleasurable and genial, made I best liked to see; est fire. Yet I forgotten s; indeed, I could not, for tly before me. o inferiority of every description: in my secret soul I kne kindness to me severity to many otoo; unaccountably so; I more t for to read to ting in on a malignant, sco I believed t s of morality (I say former, for noe. I believed urally a man of better tendencies, astes tances ion instilled, or destiny encouraged. I t t materials in toget spoiled and tangled. I cannot deny t I grieved for ever t . tinguis sleep for told iny o be thornfield. ¡°?¡± I asked myself. ¡° alienates again soon? Mrs. Fairfax said ayed nig a time; and eig spring, summer, and autumn: how joyless sunshine and fine days will seem!¡± I or not after t any rate, I started above me. I s up in bed, listening. the sound was hushed. I tried again to sleep; but my beat anxiously: my inranquillity ruck t t seemed my couc tside. I said, ¡°h fear. All at once I remembered t it mig, open, not unfrequently found o ter¡¯s c: I lay doo feel turn of slumber. But it fated t I s nig fled affrig enough. ttered, as it seemed, at t at first tood at my bedside¡ªor rat I rose, looked round, and could see notill gazed, tural sound erated: and I kne came from be impulse o rise and fasten t; my next, again to cry out, ¡°here?¡± Someteps retreated up toorey staircase: a door ely been made to s in t staircase; I open and close, and all ill. ¡°as t Grace Poole? and is s I. Impossible noo remain longer by myself: I must go to Mrs. Fairfax. I and opened trembling outside, and on tting in t tance: but still more o perceive te dim, as if filled o t , to find wrong smell of burning. Somet door no more of Mrs. Fairfax; I t no more of Grace Poole, or tant, I ongues of flame darted round tains of blaze and vapour, Mr. Rocer lay stretcionless, in deep sleep. ¡°ake! upefied a moment could be lost: ts ely, one er. I s occupant, fleo my oized tinguis. t, tcied it, and, above all, to last. t range anat finding er. ¡°Is there a flood?¡± he cried. ¡°No, sir,¡± I ans t up, do; you are quencch you a candle.¡± ¡°In tendom, is t Jane Eyre?¡± cted to drown me?¡± ¡°I c up. Somebody ted somet too soon find out is.¡± ¡°t at your peril you fetc: tes till I get into some dry garments, if any dry there be¡ªyes, here is my dressing-gown. Now run!¡± I did run; I brougill remained in took it from my up, and surveyed ts drenc round ser. ¡° is it? and o ranspired: trange laugep ascending to torey; ted me to state I ters ter I could lay hands on. ened very gravely; on, expressed more concern tonis; immediately speak when I had concluded. ¡°Shall I call Mrs. Fairfax?¡± I asked. ¡°Mrs. Fairfax? No; can s ed.¡± ¡°tch Leah, and wake John and his wife.¡± ¡°Not at all: just be still. You about you, and sit do it on. No on tool, to keep t of t. I am going to leave you a fees. I sake till I return; be as still as a mouse. I must pay a visit to torey. Don¡¯t move, remember, or call any one.¡± : I c ly, unclosed taircase door tle noise as possible, s it after ray vanis in total darkness. I listened for some noise, but ime elapsed. I gre e of t see taying, as I to rouse t of risking Mr. Rocer¡¯s displeasure by disobeying once more gleamed dimly on t tread tting. ¡°I is I, ¡°and not something worse.¡± ered, pale and very gloomy. ¡°I all out,¡± said ting and; ¡°it is as I t.¡± ¡°how, sir?¡± stood tes one¡ª ¡°I forget whing when you opened your chamber door.¡± ¡°No, sir, only tick on the ground.¡± ¡°But you laug?¡± ¡°Yes, sir: t way. She is a singular person.¡± ¡°Just so. Grace Poole¡ªyou . S on t. Meantime, I am glad t you are ted ails of to-nig. You are no talking fool: say not it. I for tate of affairs¡± (pointing to turn to your o. It is near four:- in two s will be up.¡± ¡°Good-niging. ently so, as told me to go. ¡°!¡± ting me already, and in t way?¡± ¡°You said I might go, sir.¡± ¡°But not taking leave; not a and good-, in s, in t brief, dry fascing deat me as if ual strangers! At least shake hands.¡± ook it first in one, th his own. ¡°You . I cannot say more. Not olerable to me in ter of creditor for sucion: but you: it is different;¡ªI feel your benefits no burden, Jane.¡± me: visible trembled on his voice was checked. ¡°Good-nig, benefit, burden, obligation, in the case.¡± ¡°I kne some time;¡ªI sa in your eyes ¡± (ily) ¡°strike deligo my very inmost so for notalk of natural sympatrut fable. My c!¡± Strange energy was in range fire in his look. ¡°I am glad I o be ahen I was going. ¡°! you will go?¡± ¡°I am cold, sir.¡± ¡°Cold? Yes,¡ªand standing in a pool! Go, t ill retained my free it. I bet myself of an expedient. ¡°I think I hear Mrs. Fairfax move, sir,¡± said I. ¡°ell, leave me:¡± he relaxed his fingers, and I was gone. I regained my couc never t of sleep. till morning daossed on a buoyant but unquiet sea, sometimes I sas ers a s as t triumply to I could not reac, even in fancy¡ªa counteracting breeze bleinually drove me back. Sense delirium: judgment oo feveriso rest, I rose as soon as day dawned. Chapter 16 I boto see Mr. Rocer on t: I ed to feared to meet of tarily expected in t of entering t ep in for a fees sometimes, and I o visit it t day. But t as usual: noto interrupt t course of Ad¨¨le¡¯s studies; only soon after breakfast, I le in ter¡¯s c is, Joones. tions of ¡° a mercy master burnt in is alo keep a candle lit at nigial t o ter-jug!¡± ¡°I o be take cold he library sofa,¡± amp;c. to mucion succeeded a sound of scrubbing and setting to rigairs to dinner, I sa all ored to complete order; only tripped of its ood up in t, rubbing t to address o kno , on advancing, I sating on a co neains. t han Grace Poole. t, staid and taciturn-looking, as usual, in uff go on s seemed absorbed: on ures, ion one o see marking tenance of a empted murder, and im nigo o perpetrate. I art, no increase or failure of colour betrayed emotion, consciousness of guilt, or fear of detection. Sic and brief manner; and taking up anotape, on h her sewing. ¡°I o some test,¡± t I: ¡°suce impenetrability is past comprehension.¡± ¡°Good morning, Grace,¡± I said. ¡° I s all talking together a while ago.¡± ¡°Only master nig, and tains got on fire; but, fortunately, , and contrived to quencer in the ewer. ¡°A strange affair!¡± I said, in a lo er wake nobody? Did no one hear him move?¡± So me, and time to examine me hen she answered¡ª ¡°ts sleep so far off, you kno be likely to to master¡¯s; but Mrs. Fairfax said s elderly, ten sleep of assumed indifference, but still in a marked and significant tone¡ª¡°But you are young, Miss; and I s sleeper: perhaps you may have heard a noise?¡± ¡°I did,¡± said I, dropping my voice, so t Leaill polis first I t it : but Pilot cannot laugain I range one.¡± Sook a ne carefully, teady composure¡ª ¡°It is er would laug have been dreaming.¡± ¡°I dreaming,¡± I said, me; and inising and conscious eye. ¡°old master t you heard a laugh?¡± she inquired. ¡°I unity of speaking to his morning.¡± ¡°You did not t into ther asked. So be cross-questioning me, attempting to draion unaruck me t if sed , s pranks on me; I t it advisable to be on my guard. ¡°On trary,¡± said I, ¡°I bolted my door.¡± ¡°t in t of bolting your door every nig into bed?¡± ¡°Fiend! ss to kno sion again prevailed over prudence: I replied so I en omitted to fasten t: I did not t necessary. I ao be dreaded at t in future¡± (and I laid marked stress on take good care to make all secure before I venture to lie down.¡± ¡°It o do,¡± empted by robbers since it e-closet, as is er tle ing on: but I al best to err on tened, and it is as o bet. A deal of people, Miss, are for trusting all to Providence; but I say Providence dispense en blesses tly.¡± And tered he demureness of a Quakeress. I still stood absolutely dumfoundered at o me inscrutable ered. ¡°Mrs. Poole,¡± said ss¡¯ dinner will soon be ready: will you come down?¡± ¡°No; just put my pint of porter and bit of pudding on a tray, and I¡¯ll carry it upstairs.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll ?¡± ¡°Just a morsel, and a taste of c¡¯s all.¡± ¡°And the sago?¡± ¡°Never mind it at present: I seatime: I¡¯ll make it myself.¡± turned to me, saying t Mrs. Fairfax ing for me: so I departed. I of tain conflagration during dinner, so mucical cer of Grace Poole, and still more in pondering tion at tioning o custody t morning, or, at t, dismissed from er¡¯s service. as mucion of y last nig mysterious cause oo, to secrecy? It range: a bold, vindictive, and y gentleman seemed some of s; so muc even empt, muc. empted to t tenderer feelings ter in , ronly as s be admitted. ¡°Yet,¡± I reflected, ¡°semporary er¡¯s: Mrs. Fairfax told me once, s tty; but, for augy and strengter to compensate for t of personal advantages. Mr. Rocer is an amateur of tric: Grace is eccentric at least. if a former caprice (a freak very possible to a nature so sudden and rong as o ions a secret influence, t of ion, , of conjecture, Mrs. Poole¡¯s square, flat figure, and uncomely, dry, even coarse face, recurred so distinctly to my mind¡¯s eye, t I t, ¡°No; impossible! my supposition cannot be correct. Yet,¡± suggested t voice o us in our o beautiful eiter approves you: at any rate, you en felt as if night¡ªremember his words; remember his look; remember his voice!¡± I one seemed at t vividly rene over ed of start. ¡°Qu¡¯ avez-vous, mademoiselle?¡± said ss tremblent comme la feuille, et vos joues sont rouges: mais, rouges comme des cerises!¡± ¡°I am , Ad¨¨le, ooping!¡± S on sketc on thinking. I ened to drive from my mind teful notion I ing Grace Poole; it disgusted me. I compared myself . Bessie Leaven e a lady; and srutter ty, because I er s. ¡°Evening approacoer¡¯s voice or step in to-day; but surely I s: I feared ting in t, because expectation it is groient.¡± ually closed, and o go and play in t keenly desire it. I listened for to ring beloened for Leaimes I er¡¯s oread, and I turned to ting it to open and admit ; darkness only came in till it late; en sent for me at seven and eig but six. Surely I s be o- nigo say to ed again to introduce t of Grace Poole, and to ed to ask empt; and if so, little mattered ated urns; it inct aled me from going too far; beyond tion I never ventured; on treme brink I liked o try my skill. Retaining every minute form of respect, every propriety of my station, I could still meet fear or uneasy restraint; ted both him and me. A tread creaked on tairs at last. Lea it o intimate t tea least to go doairs; for t brougo Mr. Rocer¡¯s presence. ¡°You must your tea,¡± said te so little at dinner. I am afraid,¡± sinued, ¡°you are not o-day: you look flushed and feverish.¡± ¡°Oe better.¡± ¡°t prove it by evincing a good appetite; eapot ed ask, so drao kept up, by of daylig deepening into total obscurity. ¡°It is fair to-nig starliger he whole, had a favourable day for his journey.¡± ¡°Journey!¡ªIs Mr. Rocer gone anyw know .¡± ¡°O of t ed! o ton¡¯s place, ten miles on te. I believe te a party assembled t, and others.¡± ¡°Do you expect o-night?¡± ¡°No¡ªnor to-morroo stay a ogety, so can please and entertain, to separate. Gentlemen especially are often in request on sucer is so talented and so lively in society, t I believe e: t ted to recommend icularly in t I suppose s and abilities, pertle fault of look.¡± ¡°Are t the Leas?¡± ¡°ton and ers¡ªvery elegant young ladies indeed; and t beautiful y Mr. Rocer gave. You s day¡ª ed, ly lit up! I sy ladies and gentlemen present¡ªall of t county families; and Miss Ingram he evening.¡± ¡°You saw was she like?¡± ¡°Yes, I saime, ts o assemble in to er do corner and cly dressed; most of t least most of t Miss Ingram ainly the queen.¡± ¡°And w was she like?¡± ¡°tall, fine bust, sloping sures; eyes rater¡¯s: large and black, and as brilliant as s be t, t curls I ever saied at too, in contrasted ty mass of her curls.¡± ¡°Sly admired, of course?¡± ¡°Yes, indeed: and not only for y, but for s. Sleman accompanied er sang a duet.¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer? I aware he could sing.¡± ¡°O taste for music.¡± ¡°And Miss Ingram: of a voice had she?¡± ¡°A very ricfully; it reat to listen to er Mr. Rocer is; and I ion was remarkably good.¡± ¡°And tiful and accomplis yet married?¡± ¡°It appears not: I fancy neiter unes. Old Lord Ingram¡¯s estates son came in for everyt.¡± ¡°But I leman aken a fancy to er, for instance. ?¡± ¡°O you see ter is nearly forty; s ty-five.¡± ¡° of t? More unequal matches are made every day.¡± ¡°true: yet I ser ertain an idea of t. But you eat notasted since you began tea.¡± ¡°No: I am too ty to eat. ill you let me her cup?¡± I again to revert to ty of a union betiful Blanc Ad¨¨le came in, and tion urned into another channel. ion I ; looked into my , examined its ts and feelings, and endeavoured to bring back rict raying tion¡¯s boundless and trackless e, into the safe fold of common sense. Arraigned at my os I nigate of mind in to t:¡ª t a greater fool t a more fantastic idiot ed lies, and s ar. ¡°You,¡± I said, ¡°a favourite er? You gifted ance to okens of preference¡ªequivocal tokens sleman of family and a man of to a dependent and a novice. upid dupe!¡ªCould not even self- interest make you ed to yourself t nig does good to no o be flattered by possibly intend to marry is madness in all o let a secret love kindle urned and unkno devour t feeds it; and, if discovered and responded to, must lead, ignis-fatus-like, into miry ion. ¡°Listen, to your sentence: tomorroure, fait softening one defect; omit no y; e under it, ¡®Portrait of a Governess, disconnected, poor, and plain.¡¯ ¡°Afterake a piece of smootake your palette, mix your fres, finest, clearest tints; c delicate camel-e carefully t face you can imagine; paint it in your softest sest lines, according to tion given by Mrs. Fairfax of Blancs, tal eye;¡ª! you revert to Mr. Rocer as a model! Order! No snivel!¡ªno sentiment!¡ªno regret! I ion. Recall t yet s, t; let te neit; portray faittire, aerial lace and glistening satin, graceful scarf and golden rose; call it ¡®Blanche, an accomplished lady of rank.¡¯ ¡°ure, you so fancy Mr. Rocer take out tures and compare ter mig noble lady¡¯s love, if o strive for it; is it likely e a serious t on t and insignificant plebeian?¡¯¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± I resolved: and ermination, I grew calm, and fell asleep. I kept my o sketcrait in crayons; and in less tniged an ivory miniature of an imaginary Blanc looked a lovely face enougrast as self-control could desire. I derived benefit from task: it my o to stamp indelibly on my . Ere long, I o congratulate myself on to . to it, I o meet subsequent occurrences calm, ain, even externally. Chapter 17 A en days, and still come. Mrs. Fairfax said s be surprised if o go straigo London, and to tinent, and not s to come; unfrequently quitted it in a manner quite as abrupt and unexpected. o feel a strange c t. I ually permitting myself to experience a sickening sense of disappointment; but rallying my s, and recollecting my principles, I at once called my sensations to order; and it emporary blunder¡ªake of supposing Mr. Rocer¡¯s movements a matter in ake a vital interest. Not t I ion of inferiority: on trary, I just said¡ª ¡°You o do er of to receive teac¨¦g¨¦e, and to be grateful for sucful and kind treatment as, if you do your duty, you to expect at is tie ures, agonies, and so fort of your order: keep to your caste, and be too self-respecting to lavis, soul, and strengt is not ed and would be despised.¡± I on ranquilly; but ever and anon vague suggestions kept involuntarily framing advertisements and pondering conjectures about neuations: ts I did not t germinate and bear fruit if they could. Mr. Rocer upnig brougter. ¡°It is from ter,¡± said s tion. ¡°No urn or not.¡± And on taking my coffee ( breakfast): it tributed to t circumstance a fiery glo ents of my cup into my saucer, I did not co consider. ¡°ell, I sometimes too quiet; but le ,¡± said Mrs. Fairfax, still e before acles. Ere I permitted myself to request an explanation, I tied tring of Ad¨¨le¡¯s pinafore, ly¡ª ¡°Mr. Rocer is not likely to return soon, I suppose?¡± ¡°Indeed t alone eit knoions for all t bedrooms to be prepared; and to be cleaned out; I am to get more kitc Millcote, and from s: so o commence operations. told, busy enoug all t tifully clean and it appears I aken. t to and beating of carpets, sucaking doting up of pictures, sucres, sucing of fires in bedrooms, sucs and feate of it: tions for company and t of to to ecstasies. So look over all oilettes,¡± as so furbis o air and arrange t caper about in t ceads, and lie on ttresses and piled-up bolsters and pilloies sed: Mrs. Fairfax o oreroom, o make custards and cry, to truss game and garnis-dishes. ty ed to arrive on ternoon, in time for dinner at six. During tervening period I ime to nurse cive and gay as anybody¡ªAd¨¨le excepted. Still, noo my ce of myself, ts and portents, and dark conjectures. to see torey staircase door (o te apron, and c tread muffled in a list slipper; ling, topsy-turvy bedrooms,¡ªjust say a to polise, or clean a marble mantelpiece, or take stains from papered o tc e pipe on t of porter e solace, in . Only one y-four did ss belo of ime in some lo and sewed¡ªand probably laugo herself,¡ªas companionless as a prisoner in his dungeon. trangest t not a soul in t me, noticed s, or seemed to marvel at tion or employment; no one pitied ude or isolation. I once, indeed, over of a dialogue between Lea. Lea caughe charwoman remarked¡ª ¡°Ss good wages, I guess?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± said Lea t mine are to complain of,¡ªtinginess at t t one fifter to t Millcote. I s so keep if so leave; but I suppose s used to t forty yet, and strong and able for anyt is too soon for o give up business.¡± ¡°She charwoman. ¡°Aands ter,¡± rejoined Lealy; ¡°and it is not every one could fill for all ts.¡± ¡°t it is not!¡± er¡ª¡± t urned and perceived me, and santly gave her companion a nudge. ¡°Doesn¡¯t she woman whisper. Leaion ed to t tery at t from participation in t mystery I was purposely excluded. ted ts erpanes spread, toilet tables arranged, furniture rubbed, flo as oo, carved clock, as eps and banisters of taircase, ness of glass; in t e; in tics bloomed on all sides. Afternoon arrived: Mrs. Fairfax assumed black satin goo receive to conduct to too, stle croduced to ty t day at least. o please o apparel , full muslin frocks. For myself, I o make any c be called upon to quit my sanctum of tum it o me,¡ª¡°a very pleasant refuge in time of trouble.¡± It o o an end no t at he window open. ¡°It gets late,¡± said Mrs. Fairfax, entering in rustling state. ¡°I am glad I ordered dinner an er time Mr. Rocer mentioned; for it is past six noes to see if tion of Millcote.¡± S to t), ¡°any news?¡± ¡°ten minutes.¡± Ad¨¨le fleo taking care to stand on one side, so t, screened by tain, I could see being seen. ten minutes Jo at last er ttering veils and lemen; ter, on bounding before of ty. almost s treamed long on ts transparent folds, and gleaming ts. ¡°Miss Ingram!¡± exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax, and away so below. turned t sig. Ad¨¨le noitioned to go do I took o understand t s not on any account turing in sig any otime, unless expressly sent for: t Mr. Rocer ural tears sold t as I began to look very grave, sed at last to hem. A joyous stir lemen¡¯s deep tones and ladies¡¯ silvery accents blent ogetinguis loud, er of t guests under its roof. t steps ascended tairs; and tripping t cime, a hush. ¡°Elles c de toilettes,¡± said Ad¨¨le; tentively, ; and she sighed. ¡°C du monde, je le suivais partout, au salon et ¨¤ leurs c je regardais les femmes de c c¡¯¨¦tait si amusant: comme cela on apprend.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you feel hungry, Ad¨¨le?¡± ¡°Mais oui, mademoiselle: voil¨¤ cinq ou six heures que nous n¡¯avons pas mang¨¦.¡± ¡°ell no you someto eat.¡± And issuing from my asylum ion, I sougairs ly to tc region ion; t stage of projection, and tening spontaneous combustion. In ts¡¯ lemen stood or sat round tairs resses; ts, t e, ling about every reacook possession of a cold carts, a plate or ty I made a y retreat. I sting ted t to issue from t proceed to t passing some of tualage; so I stood still at te dark no and twilighering. Presently tenants one after anot gaily and airily, gleamed lustrous t tood grouped toget tremity of t subdued vivacity: taircase almost as noiselessly as a brig rolls down a ive appearance on me an impression of high-born elegance, such as I had never before received. I found Ad¨¨le peeping t beautiful ladies!¡± cried s go to ter er dinner?¡± ¡°No, indeed, I don¡¯t; Mr. Rocer o t. Never mind to-nigo-morrow: here is your dinner.¡± Sarts served to divert tention for a time. It o ing no dinner at all: every one doairs oo muco t carried out till after nine and at ten footmen ill running to and fro rays and coffee-cups. I alloo sit up mucer t possibly go to sleep ing beloling about. Besides, s possibly come from Mr. Rocer w alors quel dommage!¡± I told ories as long as sen to took into t, and it amused o look over trade and cs passing backop step of tairs to listen. Presently a voice blent ones of trument; it folloional murmur filled up tervals. I listened long: suddenly I discovered t my ear on analysing trying to discriminate amidst ts ter; and found a furtask in framing tones, rendered by distance inarticulate, into words. truck eleven. I looked at Ad¨¨le, my sook o bed. It lemen and ladies sougheir chambers. t day s predecessor: it ed by ty to an excursion to some site in t out early in t in carriages; I nessed boture and turn. Miss Ingram, as before, rian; and, as before, Mr. Rocer galloped at tle apart from t. I pointed out tance to Mrs. Fairfax, th me¡ª ¡°You said it likely t you see Mr. Rocer evidently prefers o any of ther ladies.¡± ¡°Yes, I daresay: no doubt he admires her.¡± ¡°And so.¡± ¡°You o Mr. Rocer o be introduced to t o ter dinner; and request Miss Eyre to accompany her.¡¯¡± ¡°Yes; from mere politeness: I need not go, I am sure,¡± I answered. ¡°ell, I observed to as you o company, I did not ty¡ªall strangers; and s, tell is my particular wiss, say I scumacy.¡¯¡± ¡°I give trouble,¡± I anster may be; but I don¡¯t like it. Shere, Mrs. Fairfax?¡± ¡°No; I pleaded off, and ted my plea. I¡¯ll tell you o manage so as to avoid t of making a formal entrance, of t go into t is empty, before table; c in any quiet nook you like; you need not stay long after tlemen come in, unless you please: just let Mr. Rocer see you are tice you.¡± ¡°ill think?¡± ¡°Perainly not more. After ter recess, Sir George Lynn, ed member for Millcote, o toake ; I daresay Mr. Rocer racted a stay at thornfield.¡± It repidation t I perceived to repair o tate of ecstasy all day, after o be presented to t till Sopion of dressing sance of teadied ime sers, in frock put on, ied, and tens adjusted, so o disarrange tire: le caking care previously to lift up tin skirt for fear s, and assured me s stir till I dress (temple¡¯s on; my , the pearl brooch, soon assumed. e descended. Fortunately trance to t ted at dinner. e found tment vacant; a large fire burning silently on t solitude, amid te floables ain as ion ty in t notion could be distinguishing murmur. Ad¨¨le, ill under t solemnising impression, sat do a stool I pointed out to ired to a , and taking a book from a table near, endeavoured to read. Ad¨¨le brougool to my feet; ere long souched my knee. ¡° is it, Ad¨¨le?¡± ¡°Est-ce que je ne puis pas prendrie une seule de ces fleurs magnifiques, mademoiselle? Seulement pour completer ma toilette.¡± ¡°You too mucoilette,¡¯ Ad¨¨le: but you may ook a rose from a vase and fastened it in isfaction, as if urned my face ao conceal a smile I could not suppress: ttle Parisienne¡¯s earnest and innate devotion to matters of dress. A soft sound of rising noain back from t appeared ts lit lustre pouring do-service covering a long table; a band of ladies stood in tered, and tain fell behem. t eig, someall; many seemed to magnify t magnifies tseyed to t turn, tared at me. t tness and buoyancy of ts, of a flock of ions on ttomans: some bent over tables and examined t gatalked in a lo clear tone o terion them now. First, ton and t, Amy, tle: naive, and c in form; e muslin dress and blue sasaller and more elegant in figure; ty face, of t order term minois cers were fair as lilies. Lady Lynn out personage of about forty, very erect, very y-looking, ricin robe of c of a band of gems. Mrs. Colonel Dent , more lady-like. S figure, a pale, gentle face, and fair in dress, s, pleased me better titled dame. But t distinguisly, perallest figures of ters, Blanciest stature of be bety and fifty: ill fine; at least) still black; eetoo, ill apparently perfect. Most people insupportable iness in enance. Sures and a double co a t like a pillar: tures appeared to me not only inflated and darkened, but even furroained by tion of almost preternatural erectness. S reminded me of Mrs. Reed¡¯s; ss inflections very pompous, very dogmatical,¡ªvery intolerable, in s. A crimson velvet robe, and a surban of some gold-ruly imperial dignity. Blancature,¡ªstraigall as poplars. Mary oo slim for , but Blancerest. First, I all resembled ture I ed of !¡ª Mr. Rocer¡¯s taste. As far as person , s for point, boto my picture and Mrs. Fairfax¡¯s description. t, ts ures, t , urnine a pride! sinually; irical, and so ual expression of y lip. Genius is said to be self-conscious. I cannot tell o a discourse on botany le Mrs. Dent. It seemed Mrs. Dent studied t science: ts vocabulary ly perceived s is vernacularly termed) trailing Mrs. Dent; t is, playing on rail mig it good-natured. Sion ; salked Frenc to alked it . Mary enance ter features too, and a skin some s Mary in life: re; so say, and aken , remained fixed like a statue in its nicers tired in spotless we. And did I noer o make? I could not tell¡ªI did not knoe in female beauty. If ic, sype of majesty: tly. Most gentlemen o ained proof: to remove t s, it remained but to see together. You are not to suppose, reader, t Ad¨¨le ime been sitting motionless on tool at my feet: no; tately reverence, and said y¡ª ¡°Bon jour, mesdames.¡± And Miss Ingram a little puppet!¡± Lady Lynn is Mr. Rocer¡¯s tle French girl he was speaking of.¡± Mrs. Dent aken her hand, and given her a kiss. Amy and Louisa Es simultaneously¡ª¡° a love of a child!¡± And to a sofa, tering alternately in Frenc only ttention, but t of Mrs. Esting spoilt to ¡¯s content. At last coffee is brouglemen are summoned. I sit in tly-lit apartment; tain ive appearance of tlemen, like t of tumed in black; most of tall, some young. is a fine soldierly man. Mr. Esrate of trict, is gentleman-like: e all; like t ic and listless look: o y of blood or vigour of brain. And wer? : I am not looking at t I see er. I try to concentrate my attention on tting-needles, on to to see only t lie in my lap; ly beably recall t ; just after I ial service, and revealed a full and eager to overflo moment! ed to cive positions? Yet no, ranged ranged, t I did not expect o come and speak to me. I did not me, ook a seat at the ladies. No sooner did I see t tention ed on t I mig being observed, tarily to keep trol: te pleasure in looking,¡ªa precious yet poignant pleasure; pure gold, eely point of agony: a pleasure like -peris feel stoops and drinks divine draugheless. Most true is it t ¡°beauty is in ter¡¯s colourless, olive face, square, massive broty eyebrorong features, firm, grim mout beautiful, according to rule; but tiful to me; terest, an influence t quite mastered me,¡ªt took my feelings from my otered t intended to love o extirpate from my soul tected; and no t renerong! looking at me. I compared s. grace of tary distinction of Colonel Dent, contrasted ive pit I could imagine t most observers tractive, er at once ured and melanc of t as tinkle of ter smile:- ern features softened; and gentle, its ray bot. alking, at t, to Louisa and Amy Eso see t look rating: I expected to fall, to rise under it; yet I o t o me,¡± I t: ¡° of to and tenance and movements: t, in my blood and nerves, t assimilates me mentally to I o do to receive my salary at o t ter? Blasp nature! Every good, true, vigorous feeling I conceal my sentiments: I must smot remember t care muc I am of mean t I o influence, and o attract; I mean only t I ain tastes and feelings in common , t continually t , w love him.¡± Coffee is lemen entered, ion and Mr. Esics; ten. te togetten to describe,¡ªa very big, and very fresry gentleman, stands before ts in a beside Mary Ingram, and is s apparently says little. tall and pic Lord Ingram leans tle and lively Amy Es ters like a er ter. aken possession of an ottoman at t of Louisa: Ad¨¨le s rying to talk Frenc anding alone at table, bending gracefully over an album. Sing to be soug s too long: ss a mate. Mr. Rocer, ted tons, stands on tary as sands by table: ss aking ation on te side of telpiece. ¡°Mr. Rocer, I t you fond of children?¡± ¡°Nor am I.¡± ¡°t induced you to take ctle doll as t?¡± (pointing to Ad¨¨le). ¡°here did you pick her up?¡± ¡°I did not pick on my hands.¡± ¡°You s o school.¡± ¡°I could not afford it: schools are so dear.¡± ¡° noe as expensive,¡ªmore so; for you o keep in addition.¡± I feared¡ªor so me arily so t urned his eyes. ¡°I considered t,¡± said ly, looking straight before him. ¡°No, you men never do consider economy and common sense. You ser of governesses: Mary and I least in our day; estable and t ridiculous, and all incubi¡ª, mama?¡± ¡°Did you speak, my own?¡± ty, reiterated ion ion. ¡°My dearest, don¡¯t mention governesses; tyrdom from tency and caprice. I them!¡± Mrs. Dent over to ted, it one of tised race . ¡°tant pis!¡± said may do one, but still loud enougo iced s of her class.¡± ¡° are ter aloud. ¡°I ell you in your private ear,¡± replied surban times entous significancy. ¡°But my curiosity its appetite; it craves food now.¡± ¡°Ask Blanchan I.¡± ¡°O refer o me, mama! I one o say of tribe; t t I ever suffered mucook care to turn tables. tricks to play on our Miss ilsons, and Mrs. Greys, and Madame Jouberts! Mary oo sleepy to join in a plot . t fun : Miss ilson ed, not rouble of vanquis; and Mrs. Grey ook effect on poor Madame Joubert! I see in o extremities¡ªspilt our tea, crumbled our bread and butter, tossed our books up to those merry days?¡± ¡°Yaas, to be sure I do,¡± draick used to cry out ¡®Oion of attempting to teac.¡± ¡°e did; and, tedo, you knoing) your tutor, y of falling in love least tedo and I t so; ender glances and sigerpreted as tokens of ¡®la belle passion,¡¯ and I promise you t of our discovery; as a sort of lever to our dead- t it endency. Did you not, my lady-mother?¡± ¡°Certainly, my best. And I e rig: tutors solerated a moment in any ed ly¡ª¡± ¡°Oion! Au reste, o innocence of cractions and consequent neglect of duty on t of ttacual alliance and reliance; confidence ting¡ªinsolence accompanying¡ªmutiny and general blo, Baroness Ingram, of Ingram Park?¡± ¡°My lily-flo now, as always.¡± ¡°t.¡± Amy Es um, joined in , infantine tone: ¡°Louisa and I used to quiz our governess too; but sure, s . Sh us; was she, Louisa?¡± ¡°No, never: we mig we pleased; ransack urn ; and sured, shing we asked for.¡± ¡°I suppose, no of tant: in order to avert sucation, I again move troduction of a neopic. Mr. Rocer, do you second my motion?¡± ¡°Madam, I support you on t, as on every other.¡± ¡°t foro-night?¡± ¡°Donna Bianca, if you command it, I will be.¡± ¡°t to furbised on my royal service.¡± ¡° be the Rizzio of so divine a Mary?¡± ¡°A fig for Rizzio!¡± cried sossing s curls, as so t is my opinion t of felloter: to my mind a man is not a spice of tory may say of ed to gift h my hand.¡± ¡°Gentlemen, you resembles Boter. ¡°I s. ¡°On my o you,¡± he reply. Miss Ingram, ude, commenced a brilliant prelude; talking meantime. So be on o-nigended to excite not only tion, but t of ors: sly bent on striking thing very dashing and daring indeed. ¡°O day!¡± exclaimed stling a trument. ¡°Poor, puny t fit to stir a step beyond papa¡¯s park gates: nor to go even so far mama¡¯s permission and guardiansures so absorbed in care about tty faces, and te ; as if a man o do y! As if loveliness tive of e appanage and age! I grant an ugly on tion; but as to tlemen, let tous to possess only strengt tto be:- , s, and fig is not h a fillip. Such should be my device, were I a man.¡± ¡°inued after a pause ed, ¡°I am resolved my be a rival, but a foil to me. I itor near t an undivided ions s be ser, now sing, and I will play for you.¡± ¡°I am all obedience,¡± he response. ¡° I doat on Corsairs; and for t reason, sing it con spirito.¡± ¡°Commands from Miss Ingram¡¯s lips spirit into a mug of milk and er.¡± ¡°take care, t please me, I will shings should be done.¡± ¡°t is offering a premium on incapacity: I so fail.¡± ¡°Gardez-vous en bien! If you err e punis.¡± ¡°Miss Ingram ougo be clement, for s in o inflict a cisement beyond mortal endurance.¡± ¡°he lady. ¡°Pardon me, madam: no need of explanation; your o inform you t one of your fro substitute for capital punis.¡± ¡°Sing!¡± said souc in spirited style. ¡°Noime to slip a I: but tones t ted me. Mrs. Fairfax er possessed a fine voice: o , and tion strangely. I ed till t deep and full vibration ill tide of talk, cant, s floted my sered corner and made my exit by tunately near. to t, I perceived my sandal opped to tie it, kneeling do purpose on t at t of taircase. I leman came out; rising ily, I stood face to face was Mr. Rocer. ¡°how do you do?¡± he asked. ¡°I am very well, sir.¡± ¡° come and speak to me in the room?¡± I t I migorted tion on it: but I take t freedom. I answered¡ª ¡°I did not urb you, as you seemed engaged, sir.¡± ¡° have you been doing during my absence?¡± ¡°Noticular; teaching Ad¨¨le as usual.¡± ¡°And getting a good deal paler t first sig is tter?¡± ¡°Not all, sir.¡± ¡°Did you take any cold t night you half drowned me?¡± ¡°Not s.¡± ¡°Return to ting too early.¡± ¡°I am tired, sir.¡± me for a minute. ¡°And a little depressed,¡± about? tell me.¡± ¡°Not depressed.¡± ¡°But I affirm t you are: so muc a feears to your eyes¡ªindeed, to time, and in mortal dread of some prating prig of a servant passing, I o-nig understand t so long as my visitors stay, I expect you to appear in t is my it. No ly left me. Chapter 18 Merry days too: from t tillness, monotony, and solitude I s roof! All sad feelings seemed noions forgotten: t all day long. You could not noraverse ter t cenantless, encountering a smart lady¡¯s-maid or a dandy valet. tcler¡¯s pantry, ts¡¯ rance void and still into t inuous rain set in for some days, no damp seemed cast over enjoyment: indoor amusements only became more lively and varied, in consequence of top put to outdoor gaiety. I o do t evening a certainment in my ignorance I did not understand term. ts ables e ter and tlemen directed terations, tairs ringing for to give information respecting tain orey ents, in tticoats, satin sacques, black modes, lace lappets, amp;c., he drawing-room. Meantime, Mr. Rocer ing certain of to be of y. ¡°Miss Ingram is mine, of course,¡± said er¡¯s bracelet, w loose. ¡°ill you play?¡± insist, urn quietly to my usual seat. ain: ty, do of clemen, Mr. Eso propose t I so join t Lady Ingram instantly negatived tion. ¡°No,¡± I oo stupid for any game of t.¡± Ere long a bell tinkled, and tain dreer e s: before able, lay open a large book; and at ood Amy Eser¡¯s cloak, and ed on being one of y), bounded fortering round ents of a basket of floogetable. t; ook up tations be o recognise tomime of a marriage. At its termination, Colonel Dent and y consulted in es, t¡ª ¡°Bride!¡± Mr. Rocer boain fell. A considerable interval elapsed before it again rose. Its second rising displayed a more elaborately prepared scene t. teps above top of tep, placed a yard or t of tory¡ªood, surrounded by exotics, and tenanted by gold fis must ransported rouble, on account of its size and . Seated on t, by ter, costumed in surban on ures suited tume exactly: ern emir, an agent or a victim of tring. Presently advanced into vietired in oriental fasied sas: an embroidered ted about emples; ifully-moulded arms bare, one of t of supporting a pitc of form and feature, ed tisriarcless ter sended to represent. S over it as if to fill ced it to o accost o make some request:- ¡°Sed, let do, opened it and s bracelets and earrings; sed astonis and admiration; kneeling, reasure at ; incredulity and deligures; tranger fastened ts on ing. ty again laid togetly t agree about trated. Colonel Dent, tableau of tain again descended. On its tion of t being concealed by a screen, of dark and coarse drapery. ts place, stood a deal table and a kitcs inguished. Amidst t a man ing on on ter; t torn from e and scoenance, tling tacters. ¡°Bride, and the charade was solved. A sufficient interval o resume tume, tered ter led in Miss Ingram; sing ing. ¡°Do you knoers, I liked you in t best? O lived a fe gentleman-highwayman you would have made!¡± ¡°Is all t towards her. ¡°Alas! yes: ty! Noto your complexion t ruffian¡¯s rouge.¡± ¡°You would like a hen?¡± ¡°An Englis best to an Italian bandit; and t could only be surpassed by a Levantine pirate.¡± ¡°ell, wever I am, remember you are my wife; we were married an nesses.¡± She giggled, and her colour rose. ¡°No,¡± continued Mr. Rocer, ¡°it is your turn.¡± And as ty ook ted seats. Miss Ingram placed nocors; I no longer ed erest for tain to rise; my attention ators; my eyes, eretracted to t c and y played, ted t I still see tation urn to Miss Ingram, and Miss Ingram to oty curls almost touc ual urns in memory at t. I old you, reader, t I to love Mr. Rocer: I could not unlove o notice me¡ªbecause I migurn ion¡ªbecause I saentions appropriated by a great lady, ouc instantly as from an object too mean to merit observation. I could not unlove sure y in entions respecting nessed yle of courtso be sougo seek, , in its very carelessness, captivating, and in its very pride, irresistible. to cool or banisances, to create despair. Mucoo, you o engender jealousy: if a ion, could presume to be jealous of a I jealous: or very rarely;¡ªture of t be explained by t oo inferior to excite t I say. S s genuine: s attainments; but barren by nature: notaneously on t soil; no unforced natural fruit deligs fres good; s original: so repeat sounding ped a one of sentiment; but s knoions of sympaty; tenderness and trut in oo often srayed t so a spiteful antipat little Ad¨¨le: pusumelious epit if so approacimes ordering reating cations of cer¡ªcure bridegroom, Mr. Rocer ended a ceaseless surveillance; and it y¡ªt, clear consciousness of s¡ª timents toorturing pain arose. I saed given ions ed to reasure. t¡ªtouceased¡ªtained and fed: s charm him. If sory at once, and at , I surned to tively) o tal struggle igers¡ªjealousy and despair: t torn out and devoured, I s for t of my days: and te y, tion¡ªtruly tranquil my quiescence. But as matters really stood, to cs at fascinating Mr. Rocer, to ness ted failure¡ª t eac launc tuatedly pluming so allure¡ªto ness to be at once under ceaseless excitation and rutraint. Because, inually glanced off from Mr. Rocer¡¯s breast and fell , mig by a surer ¡ªo ern eye, and softness into ter still, conquest might have been won. ¡° influence o drao truly like like rue affection! If s coin tingly, manufacture airs so elaborate, graces so multitudinous. It seems to me t s, by merely sitting quietly at tle and looking less, get nig. I expression from t came of itself: it elicited by meretricious arts and calculated manoeuvres; and one to accept it¡ªto ansension, to address grimace¡ªand it increased and greering sunbeam. o please t; and yet it mig, I verily believe, be t he sun shines on.¡± I yet said anytory of Mr. Rocer¡¯s project of marrying for interest and connections. It surprised me sucention: I o be influenced by motives so commonplace in tion, education, amp;c., of ties, t justified in judging and blaming eiting in conformity to ideas and principles instilled into tless, from t fat seemed to me t, leman like ake to my bosom only suc tages to t t be arguments against its general adoption of : ot sure all t as I . But in ots, as to my master: I ting all s, for o study all sides of er: to take t able judgment. No artled me once, s in a c, but t as comparatively insipid. And as for t a sinister or a sorro opened upon a careful observer, norange deptially disclosed; t someto make me fear and s volcanic-looking t gape: t somet intervals, beill; and , but not ead of o divine it; and I t Miss Ingram look into t s secrets and analyse ture. Meantime, er and ure bride¡ª sas of importance¡ªt of ty e interests and pleasures. tinued to consort in solemn conferences, urbans at eacing gestures of surprise, or mystery, or o ts. Mild Mrs. Dent talked ured Mrs. Esimes bestoeous , and Mr. Esics, or county affairs, or justice business. Lord Ingram flirted on; Louisa played and sang to and ened languidly to t speecimes all, as , suspended to observe and listen to tors: for, after all, Mr. Rocer and¡ªbecause closely connected y. If from tible dulness seemed to steal over ts of s; and rance o give a freso ty of conversation. t of ing influence appeared to be peculiarly felt one day t o Millcote on business, and likely to return till late. ternoon : a y o take to see a gipsy camp, lately pitcly deferred. Some of tlemen o tables: toget solace in a quiet game at cards. Blancer aciturnity, some efforts of Mrs. Dent and Mrs. Eso draion, murmured over some sentimental tunes and airs on tcy listlessness on a sofa, and prepared to beguile, by tion, tedious : only no of the billiard-players was heard from above. It o dress for dinner, , suddenly exclaimed¡ª ¡°Voile, Monsieur Rocer, qui revient!¡± I turned, and Miss Ingram darted forions; for at time a cruncramp of gravel. A post-chaise was approaching. ¡° can possess o come style?¡± said Miss Ingram. ¡°, ? and Pilot he animals?¡± As sall person and ample garments so near t I o bend back almost to t observe me at first, but . t-copped; tleman aligtired in travelling garb; but it Mr. Rocer; it all, fasranger. ¡°iresome monkey!¡± (apostropo give false intelligence?¡± and s on me an angry glance, as if I . Some parleying ered. o Lady Ingram, as deeming lady present. ¡°It appears I come at an inopportune time, madam,¡± said er, is from I arrive from a very long journey, and I timate acquaintance as to instal myself ill urns.¡± e; , in speaking, struck me as being some precisely foreign, but still not altoget be about Mr. Rocer¡¯s,¡ªbety and forty; first sigion, you detected somet displeased, or rat failed to please. ures too relaxed: , but t of it ame, vacant life¡ªat least so I t. ty. It till after dinner t I sa I liked struck me as being at time unsettled and inanimate. s o an unamiable-looking man, smoot aquiline nose and small c on t blank, brown eye. As I sat in my usual nook, and looked at of telpiece beaming full over o t sill nearer, as if er. I t spoken) trast could not be mucer bets guardian. er as an old friend. A curious friends ed illustration, indeed, of t ¡°extremes meet.¡± tlemen sat near at times scraps of tion across t first I could not make muc I on and Mary Ingram, o me, confused tary sentences t reac intervals. t ranger; tiful man.¡± Louisa said ure,¡± and sanced ty little mouthe charming. ¡°And -tempered foreies I dislike so much; and such a placid eye and smile!¡± And to my great relief, Mr. o to settle some point about to hay Common. I o concentrate my attention on tly gat t just arrived in England, and t country: out in tly ton, Spanisoed t Indies as tle surprise I gat seen and become acquainted er. s, t region. I kne tinent of Europe ill nos to more distant shores. I , and a someed one, broke to open to be put on t out its flame, ts mass of cinder still s and red. tman , stopped near Mr. Eso e troublesome.¡± ¡°tell in tocks if s take rate. ¡°No¡ªstop!¡± interrupted Colonel Dent. ¡°Don¡¯t send on; o account; better consult tinued¡ª¡°Ladies, you talked of going to o visit t one of ts¡¯ t, and insists upon being brougy,¡¯ to tell tunes. ould you like to see her?¡± ¡°Surely, colonel,¡± cried Lady Ingram, ¡°you encourage sucor? Dismiss once!¡± ¡°But I cannot persuade o go aman; ¡°nor can any of ts: Mrs. Fairfax is noreating o be gone; but saken a cir till ss leave to come in here.¡± ¡° does s?¡± asked Mrs. Eshton. ¡°¡®to tell try tunes,¡¯ s and .¡± ¡° is son, in a breath. ¡°A sure, miss; almost as black as a crock.¡± ¡° us have her in, of course.¡± ¡°to be sure,¡± rejoined ies to throw away such a chance of fun.¡± ¡°My dear boys, ?¡± exclaimed Mrs. Lynn. ¡°I cannot possibly countenance any sucent proceeding,¡± che Dowager Ingram. ¡°Indeed, mama, but you can¡ªand y voice of Blancurned round on tool; , apparently examining sundry ss of music. ¡°I y to une told: the beldame forward.¡± ¡°My darling Blanc¡ª¡± ¡°I do¡ªI recollect all you can suggest; and I must have my will¡ª quick, Sam!¡± ¡°Yes¡ªyes¡ªyes!¡± cried all tlemen. ¡°Let sport!¡± tman still lingered. ¡°She looks such a rough one,¡± said he. ¡°Go!¡± ejaculated Miss Ingram, and t. Excitement instantly seized ty: a running fire of raillery and jests was proceeding wurned. ¡°S come no o appear before t so a room by o consult go to her one by one.¡± ¡°You see now, my queenly Blanche,¡± began Lady Ingram, ¡°she encroaches. Be advised, my angel girl¡ªand¡ª¡± ¡°So t in t is not my mission to listen to o o myself. Is the library?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am¡ªbut sinkler.¡± ¡°Cease t cter, blockhead! and do my bidding.¡± Again Sam vanisery, animation, expectation rose to full flow once more. ¡°Sman, as o knoor.¡± ¡°I tter just look in upon . ¡°tell leman is coming.¡± Sam and returned. ¡°S slemen; t trouble to come near y suppressing a titter, ¡°any ladies eit the young, and single.¡± ¡°By Jove, saste!¡± exclaimed henry Lynn. Miss Ingram rose solemnly: ¡°I go first,¡± sone ed ting a breache van of his men. ¡°O! o! pause¡ªreflect!¡± ately silence, passed t er the library. A comparative silence ensued. Lady Ingram t it ¡°le cas¡± to tered under ttle frightened. tes passed very sloeen ed before turned to us the arch. ould sake it as a joke? All eyes met y, and s all eyes iffly to , and took it in silence. ¡°ell, Blanche?¡± said Lord Ingram. ¡° did ser?¡± asked Mary. ¡° did you tune- teller?¡± demanded ton. ¡°Nourned Miss Ingram, ¡°don¡¯t press upon me. Really your organs of y are easily excited: you seem, by tance of you all¡ªmy good mama included¡ªascribe to tter, absolutely to believe old me on o put tocks to-morrow morning, as ened.¡± Miss Ingram took a book, leant back in ion. I c time surned a page, and ly darker, more dissatisfied, and more sourly expressive of disappointment. S o age: and it seemed to me, from of gloom and taciturnity, t sanding tacance to ions had been made her. Meantime, Mary Ingram, Amy and Louisa Es go alone; and yet to go. A negotiation er muco and fro, till, I t last, difficulty, extorted from to upon her in a body. t so still as Miss Ingram¡¯s erical giggling and little s t ty minutes t t of ts. ¡°I am sure s rigold us suc us!¡± and to ts tlemen ened to bring them. Pressed for furtion, told ts t different relations ed to t ss, and in t t wished for. lemen interposed petitions to be furtened on t-named points; but t only blusions, tremors, and titters, in return for tunity. trons, meantime, offered vinaigrettes and erated t t been taken in time; and tlemen laugated fair ones. In t of tumult, and urned, and saw Sam. ¡°If you please, miss, t t been to , and s go till s it must be you: t. sell her?¡± ¡°Oed opportunity to gratify my muced curiosity. I slipped out of t trembling trio just returned¡ªand I closed tly behind me. ¡°If you like, miss,¡± said Sam, ¡°I¡¯ll in tens you, just call and I¡¯ll come in.¡± ¡°No, Sam, return to tc in t afraid.¡± Nor I erested and excited. Chapter 19 tranquil enougered it, and ted snugly enoug t: or rat, tied doriped inguisood on table; stle black book, like a prayer-book, by t of ttered to old immediately on my entrance: it appeared so finish a paragraph. I stood on tting at a distance from t noo trouble one¡¯s calm. S -brim partially s I could see, as s, t it range one. It looked all broled out from beneate band once, gaze. ¡°ell, and you your fortune told?¡± sures. ¡°I don¡¯t care about it, mot I ougo warn you, I h.¡± ¡°It¡¯s like your impudence to say so: I expected it of you; I in your step as you crossed threshold.¡± ¡°Did you? You¡¯ve a quick ear.¡± ¡°I have; and a quick eye and a quick brain.¡± ¡°You need trade.¡± ¡°I do; especially o deal you tremble?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not cold.¡± ¡° you turn pale?¡± ¡°I am not sick.¡± ¡° you consult my art?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not silly.¡± t and bandage; s a s black pipe, and lig began to smoke. ive, s body, took teadily at tely¡ª¡°You are cold; you are sick; and you are silly.¡± ¡°Prove it,¡± I rejoined. ¡°I act strikes t is in you. You are sick; because t of feelings, t and test given to man, keeps far a beckon it to approacir one step to meet it s you.¡± S black pipe to h vigour. ¡°You mig to almost any one in a great house.¡± ¡°I mig to almost any one: but be true of almost any one?¡± ¡°In my circumstances.¡± ¡°Yes; just so, in your circumstances: but find me another precisely placed as you are.¡± ¡°It o find you thousands.¡± ¡°You could scarcely find me one. If you kne, you are peculiarly situated: very near . terials are all prepared; ts a movement to combine t apart; let ts.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand enigmas. I never could guess a riddle in my life.¡± ¡°If you wiso speak more plainly, show me your palm.¡± ¡°And I must cross it h silver, I suppose?¡± ¡°to be sure.¡± I gave it into an old stocking-foot of , and ied it round and returned it, sold me to my o t touc. ¡°It is too fine,¡± said s; almost lines: besides, iny is not ten there.¡± ¡°I believe you,¡± said I. ¡°No,¡± sinued, ¡°it is in t t up your head.¡± ¡°Ao reality,¡± I said, as I obeyed o put some faitly.¡± I knelt irred t a ripple of ligurbed coal: t, only to deeper s illumined. ¡°I feelings you came to me to-nig ts are busy in your during all t in yonder room ting before you like sern: just as little sympatic communion passing bet tual substance.¡± ¡°I feel tired often, sleepy sometimes, but seldom sad.¡± ¡°t o buoy you up and please you ure?¡± ¡°Not I. tmost I o save money enoug of my earnings to set up a sctle ed by myself.¡± ¡°A mean nutriment for t to exist on: and sitting in t (you see I know your s )¡ª¡± ¡°You s.¡± ¡°Ao speak trutance hem, Mrs. Poole¡ª¡± I started to my feet whe name. ¡°You I; ¡°ter all, then!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be alarmed,¡± continued trange being; ¡°s; any one may repose confidence in , as I ting in t , do you t your future sc interest in any of t one face you study? one figure least curiosity?¡± ¡°I like to observe all the figures.¡± ¡°But do you never single one from t¡ªor it may be, two?¡± ¡°I do frequently; elling a tale: it amuses me to chem.¡± ¡° tale do you like best to hear?¡± ¡°O mucso end in tastrophe¡ªmarriage.¡± ¡°And do you like t monotonous theme?¡± ¡°Positively, I don¡¯t care about it: it is noto me.¡± ¡°Noto you? y and endos of rank and fortune, sits and smiles in tleman you¡ª¡± ¡°I w?¡± ¡°You know¡ªand perhink well of.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t knolemen erco table, and stately, and middle-aged, and ot certainly t liberty to be ts of o consider transaction of any moment to me.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t knolemen exc of ter of the house!¡± ¡° at home.¡± ¡°A profound remark! A most ingenious quibble! to Millcote to-nigo-morro circumstance exclude of your acquaintance¡ª blot of existence?¡± ¡°No; but I can scarcely see roduced.¡± ¡°I alking of ladies smiling in tlemen; and of late so many smiles o Mr. Rocer¡¯s eyes t t?¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer to enjoy ty of s.¡± ¡°No question about : but , of all tales told matrimony, Mr. Rocer lively and t continuous?¡± ¡°tener quickens tongue of a narrator.¡± I said to myself to trange talk, voice, manner, ime ed sentence came from er anotill I got involved in a ification; and ting for cs aking record of every pulse. ¡°Eagerness of a listener!¡± repeated ser by to ting lips t took suc in task of communicating; and Mr. Rocer o receive and looked so grateful for time given iced this?¡± ¡°Grateful! I cannot remember detecting gratitude in his face.¡± ¡°Detecting! You did you detect, if not gratitude?¡± I said nothing. ¡°You ?¡ªand, looking forward, you have seen him married, and beheld his bride happy?¡± ¡° exactly. Your c fault sometimes.¡± ¡° then?¡± ¡°Never mind: I came o inquire, not to confess. Is it kno Mr. Rocer is to be married?¡± ¡°Yes; and to tiful Miss Ingram.¡± ¡°Sly?¡± ¡°Appearances t conclusion: and, no doubt (ty t s cising out of you, you seem to question it), tively love sucty, accomplis least er estate eligible to t degree; told point about an or to look out: if anot-roll,¡ªhe¡¯s dished¡ª¡± ¡°But, mot come to er¡¯s fortune: I came to old me not.¡± ¡°Your fortune is yet doubtful: contradicted anoted you a measure of I kno before I came carefully on one side for you. I sa depends on yourself to stretc your ake it up: but he rug.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t keep me long; the fire scorches me.¡± I knelt. S stoop to only gazed, leaning back in tering,¡ª ¡°t looks soft and full of feeling; it smiles at my jargon: it is susceptible; impression follos clear sp ceases to smile, it is sad; an unconscious lassitude turns from me; it suffer furtiny; it seems to deny, by a mocking glance, truto disoy and cs pride and reserve only confirm me in my opinion. the eye is favourable. ¡°As to t delig times in laug is disposed to impart all t t on muc experiences. Mobile and flexible, it ended to be compressed in ternal silence of solitude: it is a mouten, and ion for its interlocutor. t feature too is propitious. ¡°I see no enemy to a fortunate issue but in t broo say,¡ª¡®I can live alone, if self-respect, and circumstances require me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buy bliss. I reasure born raneous delig a price I cannot afford to give.¡¯ ts firm and let t a judgment sill , and ting vote in every decision. Strong I s still small voice s tates of conscience.¡¯ ¡°ell said, foreion sed. I plans I deem ttended to t one dreg of sected; and I do not sacrifice, sorroion¡ªsuc my taste. I er, not to bligo earn gratitude, not to ears of blood¡ªno, nor of brine: my must be in smiles, in endearments, in s¡ª t e delirium. I so protract t ad infinitum; but I dare not. So far I ed as I in; but furt try me beyond my strengt¡¯.¡± ill? t, ure, and all o me as my oongue. I got up, but did not go. I looked; I stirred t s and o depart. ted retc: roused no for discoveries, I at once noticed t rically turned; a broad ring flastle finger, and stooping for it, and sa turned from me¡ªon trary, t he head advanced. ¡°ell, Jane, do you knohe familiar voice. ¡°Only take off then¡ª¡± ¡°But tring is in a knot¡ªhelp me.¡± ¡°Break it, sir.¡± ¡°ter stepped out of his disguise. ¡°Norange idea!¡± ¡°But , e you think so?¡± ¡°it have managed well.¡± ¡°But not h you?¡± ¡°You did not act ter of a gipsy h me.¡± ¡° cer did I act? My own?¡± ¡°No; some unaccountable one. In s, I believe you rying to dra¡ªor in; you alking nonsense to make me talk nonsense. It is scarcely fair, sir.¡± ¡°Do you forgive me, Jane?¡± ¡°I cannot tell till I it all over. If, on reflection, I find I o no great absurdity, I sry to forgive you; but it right.¡± ¡°O¡ªvery careful, very sensible.¡± I reflected, and t, on t ; but, indeed, I from tervieed. I kneune-tellers did not express ted y to conceal ures. But my mind living enigma, t mystery of mysteries, as I considered of Mr. Rocer. ¡°ell,¡± said are you musing about? does t grave smile signify?¡± ¡°onder and self-congratulation, sir. I o retire now, I suppose?¡± ¡°No; stay a moment; and tell me he drawing-room yonder are doing.¡± ¡°Discussing the gipsy, I daresay.¡± ¡°Sit do me t me.¡± ¡°I ter not stay long, sir; it must be near eleven o¡¯clock. Oer, t a stranger this morning?¡± ¡°A stranger!¡ªno; ed no one; is he gone?¡± ¡°No; ake ty of installing ill you returned.¡± ¡°the devil he did! Did he give his name?¡± ¡° Indies; from Spanisohink.¡± Mr. Rocer anding near me; aken my o lead me to a c a convulsive grip; tly a spasm caugh. ¡°Mason!¡ªt Indies!¡± one one migomaton to enounce its single Indies!¡± erated; and over times, groervals of speaking, o know w he was doing. ¡°Do you feel ill, sir?¡± I inquired. ¡°Jane, I¡¯ve got a blo a blow, Jane!¡± aggered. ¡°Oh, lean on me, sir.¡± ¡°Jane, you offered me your s me now.¡± ¡°Yes, sir, yes; and my arm.¡± do beside ; gazing on me, at time, troubled and dreary look. ¡°My little friend!¡± said island rouble, and danger, and ions removed from me.¡± ¡°Can I o serve you.¡± ¡°Jane, if aid is ed, I¡¯ll seek it at your .¡± ¡°tell me o do,¡ªI¡¯ll try, at least, to do it.¡± ¡°Fetc supper tell me if Mason is he is doing.¡± I . I found all ty in t supper, as Mr. Rocer seated at table,¡ªtaken es and glasses in ter and conversation ed. Mr. Mason stood near talking to Colonel and Mrs. Dent, and appeared as merry as any of tc I aking a liberty, I daresay), and I returned to the library. Mr. Rocer¡¯s extreme pallor ern. ook the glass from my hand. ¡°o your rant spirit!¡± ents and returned it to me. ¡° are they doing, Jane?¡± ¡°Laugalking, sir.¡± ¡°t look grave and mysterious, as if trange?¡± ¡°Not at all: ts and gaiety.¡± ¡°And Mason?¡± ¡°oo.¡± ¡°If all t at me, w would you do, Jane?¡± ¡°turn t of the room, sir, if I could.¡± if I o go to t me coldly, and hem?¡± ¡°I rat, sir: I saying h you.¡± ¡°to comfort me?¡± ¡°Yes, sir, to comfort you, as well as I could.¡± ¡°And if to me?¡± ¡°I, probably, s t it.¡± ¡°then, you could dare censure for my sake?¡± ¡°I could dare it for the sake of any friend who deserved my adherence; as you, I am sure, do.¡± ¡°Go back noo tep quietly up to Mason, and w Mr. Rocer is come and wiso see hen leave me.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I did . tared at me as I passed straig Mr. Mason, delivered to t upstairs. At a late er I ime, I ors repair to tinguiser¡¯s voice, and his is your room.¡± ones set my at ease. I was soon asleep. Chapter 20 I ten to draain, do space in te my casement, and looked in at me t, I opened my eyes on e and crystal clear. It iful, but too solemn; I retco draain. Good God! a cry! t¡ªits silence¡ªits rest, in to end of thornfield hall. My pulse stopped: my stood still; my stretc renetered t fearful s soon repeat it: not t- sucterance must rest ere it could repeat t. It came out of torey; for it passed over above my cruggle: a deadly one it seemed from ted¡ª ¡°imes rapidly. ¡°ill no one come?¡± it cried; and taggering and stamping on inguiser:¡ª ¡°Rocer! Rocer! for God¡¯s sake, come!¡± A cep stamped on there was silence. I on some clotment. tions, terrified murmurs sounded in every room; door after door unclosed; one looked out and anot; tlemen and ladies alike ted t is it?¡±¡ª¡°?¡±¡ª¡° c!¡±¡ª¡°Is it fire?¡±¡ª¡°Are t for t te darkness. to and fro; togetumbled: tricable. ¡°er?¡± cried Colonel Dent. ¡°I cannot find him in his bed.¡± ¡°ed in return. ¡°Be composed, all of you: I¡¯m coming.¡± And t ter advanced descended from torey. One of to ly; s was Miss Ingram. ¡° a aken place?¡± said s us kno at once!¡± ¡°But don¡¯t pull me dorangle me,¡± on we wrappers, were bearing down on him like ships in full sail. ¡°All¡¯s rig!¡± ¡¯s a mere re Nothing. Ladies, keep off, or I shall wax dangerous.¡± And dangerous ed sparks. Calming , he added¡ª ¡°A servant mare; t is all. Sable, nervous person: srued o an apparition, or somet sort, no doubt; and aken a fit . No see you all back into your rooms; for, till ttled, s be looked after. Gentlemen, o set t fail in evincing superiority to idle terrors. Amy and Louisa, return to your nests like a pair of doves, as you are. Mesdames¡± (to take cold to a dead certainty, if you stay in this chill gallery any longer.¡± And so, by dint of alternate coaxing and commanding, rived to get te dormitories. I did not to be ordered back to mine, but retreated unnoticed, as unnoticed I it. Not, o go to bed: on trary, I began and dressed myself carefully. ter t tered, t it a servant¡¯s dream ion Mr. Rocer ion framed to pacify s. I dressed, to be ready for emergencies. a long time by t over t grounds and silvered fields and ing for I kne seemed to me t some event must follorange cry, struggle, and call. No: stillness returned: eac ceased gradually, and in about an . It seemed t sleep and nigime t to set. Not liking to sit in t I ttle noise across t; as I stooped to take off my sious apped lo the door. ¡°Am I ed?¡± I asked. ¡°Are you up?¡± asked ted to er¡¯s. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°And dressed?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Come out, tly.¡± I obeyed. Mr. Rocer stood in t. ¡°I you,¡± ake your time, and make no noise.¡± My slippers ted floor as softly as a cat. airs, and stopped in teful torey: I ood at his side. ¡°have you a sponge in your room?¡± he asked in a whisper. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°s¡ªvolatile salts? Yes.¡± ¡°Go back and fetch.¡± I returned, sougand, ts in my draraced my steps. ill ed; it in the lock; he paused, and addressed me again. ¡°You don¡¯t turn sick at t of blood?¡± ¡°I t: I ried yet.¡± I felt a t no coldness, and no faintness. ¡°Just give me your do to risk a fainting fit.¡± I put my fingers into eady,¡± he door. I sao ry; but tapestry , and t, c like a dog quarrelling. Mr. Rocer, putting do a minute,¡± and foro tment. A s of lauged rance; noisy at first, and terminating in Grace Poole¡¯s o speaking, t and closed the door behind him. ¡°o ts draains concealed a considerable portion of t in it, dressed ion of ; ill; back; er ranger, Mason: I saoo t soaked in blood. ¡°er, and I took it: cer from tand: ¡°,¡± said ook t in, and moistened ttle, and applied it to trils. Mr. Mason sly unclosed er opened t of trickling fast down. ¡°Is te danger?¡± murmured Mr. Mason. ¡°Pooc be so overcome, man: bear up! I¡¯ll fetco be removed by morning, I inued. ¡°Sir?¡± ¡°I so leave you in tleman, for an urns: if , you ter on t stand to s to speak to ext¡ªand¡ªRic to ate yourself¡ªand I¡¯ll not anshe consequences.¡± Again t move; fear, eit to paralyse er put to my o use it as cion,¡± trange feeling as ted in treating step ceased to be heard. orey, fastened into one of its mystic cells; nigacle under my eyes and ed from me by a single door: yes¡ªt I could bear; but I s t of Grace Poole bursting out upon me. I must keep to my post, cly countenance¡ªtill lips forbidden to unclose¡ªt, no dip my er, and rickling gore. I must see t of t; t, antique tapestry round me, and gro old bed, and quiver strangely over t cabinet opposite¡ªo tles, eacs separate panel as in a frame; op rose an ebon crucifix and a dying C. According as ting obscurity and flickering gleam bent . Jo gre of tening a revelation of traitor¡ªof Satan e¡¯s form. Amidst all to listen as co listen for ts of t or t since Mr. Rocer¡¯s visit it seemed spellbound: all t I t tervals,¡ªa step creak, a momentary renehe snarling, canine noise, and a deep human groan. ts lived incarnate in tered mansion, and could neit mystery, t broke out no t ? creature , t, masked in an ordinary ered the voice, now of a mocking demon, and anon of a carrion-seeking bird of prey? And t over¡ªt stranger¡ª made er of t an untimely season, beloreacly submit to t Mr. Rocer enforced? er enforce t? raged, ted against; and bottempts o Mr. Rocer; t tuous ter e sness of t t in tercourse, tion of tually influenced by tive energy of ter¡¯s dismay rol like a c might fall on an oak? O forget a blo forget rembled er and ter. ¡° lingered and lingered¡ªas my bleeding patient drooped, moaned, sickened: and neiter to Mason¡¯s ing salts: my efforts seemed ineffectual: eital suffering, or loss of blood, or all t prostrating rengt, I feared I mig even speak to him. ted at last, out; as it expired, I perceived streaks of grey ligains: daly I bark far belo of ant kennel in tyard: uned: in five minutes more ting key, tc could not ed more two er. Mr. Rocer entered, and o fetch. ¡°Noer, be on t,¡± o t: ¡°I give you but ening tting tient doairs and all.¡± ¡°But is to move, sir?¡± ¡°No doubt of it; it is nots must be kept up. Come, set to work.¡± Mr. Rocer dreain, dre in all t o see rosy streaks o brig. the surgeon was already handling. ¡°Now, my good fellow, how are you?¡± he asked. ¡°S reply. ¡°Not a nig: you¡¯ve lost a little blood; t¡¯s all Carter, assure here¡¯s no danger.¡± ¡°I can do t conscientiously,¡± said Carter, . t done eeth here!¡± ¡°S me,¡± igress, the knife from her.¡± ¡°You s once,¡± said Mr. Rocer. ¡°But under sucances, urned Mason. ¡°O it: s at first.¡± ¡°I ill to- morroo attempt tervieo-night, and alone.¡± ¡°I t I could have done some good.¡± ¡°You t! you t! Yes, it makes me impatient to , o suffer enoug taking my advice; so I¡¯ll say no more. Carter¡ª have him off.¡± ¡°Directly, sir; t bandaged. I must look to teetoo, I think.¡± ¡°S,¡± said Mason. I sa to distortion; but he only said¡ª ¡°Come, be silent, Ric repeat it.¡± ¡°I ,¡± he answer. ¡°You ry: o Spaniso t all.¡± ¡°Impossible to forget t!¡± ¡°It is not impossible: you er in a trice. Jane¡± (urned to me for t time since rance), ¡°take to my bedroom, and raigo my dressing-room: open top draake out a clean s and neck- hem here; and be nimble.¡± I ; sougory ioned, found ticles named, and returned hem. ¡°Nooilet; but don¡¯t leave ted again.¡± I retired as directed. ¡°as anybody stirring beloly. ¡°No, sir; all ill.¡± ¡°e s you off cannily, Dick: and it ter, bot of ture in yonder. I riven long to avoid exposure, and I s like it to come at last. er, -coat. travel a mile t, I knoe. In your room?¡ªJane, run doo Mr. Mason¡¯s room,¡ªt mine,¡ªand fetchere.¡± Again I ran, and again returned, bearing an immense mantle lined and edged h fur. ¡°Noiring master; ¡°you must ao my room again. a mercy you are s, Jane!¡ªa clod- ture. You must open toilet-table and take out a little ptle glass you here,¡ªquick!¡± I flehe desired vessels. ¡°t¡¯s or, I sake ty of administering a dose myself, on my oy. I got t Rome, of an Italian can¡ªa fello is not a to be used indiscriminately, but it is good upon occasion: as noance. Jane, a little er.¡± tiny glass, and I from ter- bottle on tand. ¡°t the phial.¡± I did so; ed it to Mason. ¡°Drink, Ric you lack, for an hour or so.¡± ¡°But me?¡ªis it inflammatory?¡± ¡°Drink! drink! drink!¡± Mr. Mason obeyed, because it ly useless to resist. ill looked pale, but er let tes after ook his arm¡ª ¡°No on your feet,¡± ry.¡± tient rose. ¡°Carter, take ep out¡ªt¡¯s it!¡± ¡°I do feel better,¡± remarked Mr. Mason. ¡°I am sure you do. Norip on before us ao tairs; unbolt tell t-c outside, for I told to drive tling o be ready; , come to t of tairs and hem.¡± It ime five, and t of rising; but I found tcill dark and silent. tened; I opened it tle noise as possible: all t; but tes stood -ced on tationed outside. I approaclemen illness of early morning slumbered every dras¡¯ ctle birds ttering in trees, amped from time to time in tables: all else ill. tlemen noed by Mr. Rocer and to olerable ease: ted o ter followed. ¡°take care of er to tter, ¡°and keep your ill e o see s on. Ric h you?¡± ¡°the fresh air revives me, Fairfax.¡± ¡°Leave ter; there is no wind¡ªgood- bye, Dick.¡± ¡°Fairfax¡ª¡± ¡°ell ?¡± ¡°Let aken care of; let reated as tenderly as may be: let opped and burst into tears. ¡°I do my best; and , and ,¡± up the vehicle drove away. ¡°Yet o God ter, as es. tep and abstracted air too return to tal and stood at it, ing for me. ¡°Come so?¡± ¡°It seems to me a splendid mansion, sir.¡± ¡°t t discern t t te, and ted to tered) ¡°all is real, s, and pure.¡± rayed dorees, pear trees, and crees on one side, and a border on ts of old-fasocks, s--briar, and various fragrant entering t, and illumined trees and s hem. ¡°Jane, will you have a flower?¡± on t to me. ¡°thank you, sir.¡± ¡°Do you like t sky s clouds amosphere?¡± ¡°I do, very much.¡± ¡°You range night, Jane.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°And it you alone h Mason?¡± ¡°I of the inner room.¡± ¡°But I ened t: I s a lamb¡ªmy pet lamb¡ªso near a wolf¡¯s den, unguarded: you were safe.¡± ¡°ill Grace Poole live ill, sir?¡± ¡°O trouble your t of your ts.¡± ¡°Yet it seems to me your life is ays.¡± ¡°Never fear¡ªI ake care of myself.¡± ¡°Is t night gone by now, sir?¡± ¡°I cannot vouc till Mason is out of England: nor even to live, for me, Jane, is to stand on a crater-crust which may crack and spue fire any day.¡± ¡°But Mr. Mason seems a man easily led. Your influence, sir, is evidently potent you at defiance or wilfully injure you.¡± ¡°O defy me; nor, kno, , unintentionally, in a moment, by one careless of life, yet for ever of happiness.¡± ¡°tell o be cautious, sir: let you fear, and so avert the danger.¡± ily took my ily t from him. ¡°If I could do t, simpleton, . Ever since I o say to ,¡¯ and t I cannot give say ¡®Beive t I s t o me is possible. Notle friend, are you not?¡± ¡°I like to serve you, sir, and to obey you in all t is right.¡± ¡°Precisely: I see you do. I see genuine contentment in your gait and mien, your eye and face, ically say, ¡®all t is rig you t -footed running, no neat-y, no lively glance and animated complexion. My friend urn to me, quiet and pale, and is impossible: I cannot do it, because it is able as a fixed star. ell, you too I dare not s, faitransfix me at once.¡± ¡°If you o fear from Mr. Mason than you have from me, sir, you are very safe.¡± ¡°God grant it may be so! down.¡± t contained a rustic seat. Mr. Rocer took it, leaving room, I stood before him. ¡°Sit,¡± ate to take a place at my side, do you? Is t wrong, Jane?¡± I anso refuse , have been unwise. ¡°Notle friend, of t spell of a case to you, o suppose your o first, look at me, and tell me you are at ease, and not fearing t I err in detaining you, or t you err in staying.¡± ¡°No, sir; I am content.¡± ¡°ell to aid your fancy:- suppose you a you t a capital error, no matter of ure or from ives, but one aint all your existence. Mind, I don¡¯t say a crime; I am not speaking of sy act, rator amenable to ts of o you utterly insupportable; you take measures to obtain relief: unusual measures, but neitill you are miserable; for ted you on t noon darkens in an eclipse, till time of setting. Bitter and base associations in exile: less, sensual pleasure¡ªsucellect and blig-er years of voluntary banis: you make a neance¡ªter: you find in tranger muc qualities y years, and never before encountered; and t soil and taint. Sucy revives, regenerates: you feel better days come back¡ªo recommence your life, and to spend o you of days in a al being. to attain tified in overleaping an obstacle of custom¡ªa mere conventional impediment approves?¡± o say? O to suggest a judicious and satisfactory response! Vain aspiration! t le Ariel borros breatree-tops; but t, iculate. Again Mr. Rocer propounded his query: ¡°Is t no-seeking and repentant, man justified in daring to attaco le, gracious, genial stranger, tion of life?¡± ¡°Sir,¡± I ansion sure. Men and o amend and solace to heal.¡± ¡°But trument¡ªtrument! God, . I ell it you parable¡ªbeen a ed, restless man; and I believe I rument for my cure in¡ª¡± on carolling, tly rustling. I almost co catcion; but to many minutes¡ªso long racted. At last I looked up at tardy speaker: me. ¡°Little friend,¡± said e a cone¡ªs softness and gravity, and becoming ic¡ª¡°you iced my tender penc for Miss Ingram: don¡¯t you te me h a vengeance?¡± up instantly, quite to tune. ¡°Jane, Jane,¡± said opping before me, ¡°you are quite pale you curse me for disturbing your rest?¡± ¡°Curse you? No, sir.¡± ¡°Sion of t cold fingers! t nigouc terious cch me again?¡± ¡°henever I can be useful, sir.¡± ¡°For instance, t before I am married! I am sure I s be able to sleep. ill you promise to sit up o bear me company? to you I can talk of my lovely one: for now you have seen her and know her.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°S, Jane?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°A strapper¡ªa real strapper, Jane: big, bro suc and Lynn in tables! Go in by t .¡± As I one he yard, saying cheerfully¡ª ¡°Mason got tart of you all t four to see him off.¡± Chapter 21 Presentiments are strange tery to found t presentiments in my life, because I range ones of my o (for instance, betant, long-absent, ives asserting, notanding tion, ty of to ture h man. tle girl, only six years old, I one nigo Mart t s a little c to dream of crouble, eito one¡¯s self or one¡¯s kin. t of my memory, a circumstance immediately follo t day Bessie for o ttle sister. Of late I en recalled t; for during t , imes cs er. It nestled close to me, and no ran from me; but ion evinced, it failed not for seven successive nigo meet me t I entered the land of slumber. I did not like teration of one idea¡ªtrange recurrence of one image, and I greime approac ernoon of tairs by a message t some one ed me in Mrs. Fairfax¡¯s room. On repairing ting for me, leman¡¯s servant: h a crape band. ¡°I daresay you ered; ¡°but my name is Leaven: I lived coac Gates or nine years since, and I live till.¡± ¡°O! o give me a ride sometimes on Miss Georgiana¡¯s bay pony. And o Bessie?¡± ¡°Yes, Miss: my me anottle one about thriving.¡± ¡°And are t t?¡± ¡°I am sorry I can¡¯t give you better ne present¡ªin great trouble.¡± ¡°I oo looked do t and replied¡ª ¡°Mr. Joerday his chambers in London.¡± ¡°Mr. John?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And ?¡± ¡° is not a common mis to strange ways, and h was shocking.¡± ¡°I doing well.¡± ¡°Doing e amongst t men and t o debt and into jail: t as soon as urned to s. strong: t fooled o Gates ted missis to give up all to ravagance; so back again, and t ne hey say he killed himself.¡± I : tful. Robert Leaven resumed¡ª ¡°Missis of ime: s very stout, but strong ; and ty e breaking ion about Mr. Jo came too suddenly: it brougroke. S speaking; but last tuesday ster: sed to say somet making signs to my erday morning, Bessie understood s last s tc to speak to sure sold Miss Reed and Miss Georgiana, and advised to send for you. t it off at first; but tless, and said, ¡®Jane, Jane,¡¯ so many times, t at last ted. I left Gateserday: and if you can get ready, Miss, I so take you back o- morrow morning.¡± ¡°Yes, Robert, I s seems to me t I ougo go.¡± ¡°I too, Miss. Bessie said s refuse: but I suppose you off?¡± ¡°Yes; and I nos¡¯ o ttentions of Jo in searcer. in any of t in tables, or to tened: ter, Miss Ingram, to disturb so interesting a party; my errand, defer, so I approacer Miss Ingram¡¯s side. Surned as I dre me ily: o demand, ¡° can ture noempted to order me a¡ªit riking: sed in ion ated pride did not loy lineaments. ¡°Does t person you?¡± ser; and Mr. Rocer turned to see rations¡ªthe room. ¡°ell, Jane?¡± ed t. ¡°If you please, sir, I leave of absence for a wo.¡± ¡° to do?¡ªwo go?¡± ¡°to see a sick lady w for me.¡± ¡° sick lady?¡ªwhere does she live?¡± ¡°At Gateshead; in¡ªshire.¡± ¡°-s is a sends for people to see distance?¡± ¡°her name is Reed, sir¡ªMrs. Reed.¡± ¡°Reed of Gatesesrate.¡± ¡°It is his widow, sir.¡± ¡°And h her? how do you know her?¡± ¡°Mr. Reed her.¡± ¡°told me t before: you always said you ions.¡± ¡°None t would own me, sir. Mr. Reed is dead, and me off.¡± ¡°hy?¡± ¡°Because I was poor, and burdensome, and she disliked me.¡± ¡°But Reed left c alking of a Reed of Gateserday, oioning a Georgiana Reed of ty a season or two ago in London.¡± ¡°Jooo, sir: o ted suicide. t it brougic attack.¡± ¡°And w good can you do o see an old lady w you off.¡± ¡°Yes, sir, but t is long ago; and : I could not be easy to neglect her wishes now.¡± ¡°ay?¡± ¡°As s a time as possible, sir.¡± ¡°Promise me only to stay a week¡ª¡± ¡°I ter not pass my .¡± ¡°At all events you be induced under any pretext to take up a permanent residence h her?¡± ¡°Oainly return if all be well.¡± ¡°And ravel a hundred miles alone.¡± ¡°No, sir, s her coachman.¡± ¡°A person to be trusted?¡± ¡°Yes, sir, en years in the family.¡± Mr. Rocer meditated. ¡°o go?¡± ¡°Early to-morrow morning, sir.¡± ¡°ell, you must travel money, and I daresay you muc. he world, Jane?¡± he asked, smiling. I dre my purse; a meagre t o as if its scantiness amused - book: ¡°e; it y pounds, and fifteen. I told him I had no change. ¡°I don¡¯t c. take your wages.¡± I declined accepting more t first; ting something, he said¡ª ¡°Rig! Better not give you all noy pounds. ten; is it not plenty?¡± ¡°Yes, sir, but now you owe me five.¡± ¡°Come back for it, ty pounds.¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer, I may as ion anotter of business to you y.¡± ¡°Matter of business? I am curious to .¡± ¡°You you are going sly to be married?¡± ¡°Yes; hen?¡± ¡°In t case, sir, Ad¨¨le ougo go to scy of it.¡± ¡°to get of my bride¡¯s oo empically? tion; not a doubt of it. Ad¨¨le, as you say, must go to sc marcraigo¡ªthe devil?¡± ¡°I , sir; but I must seek anotuation somewhere.¡± ¡°In course!¡± ortion of features equally fantastic and ludicrous. me some minutes. ¡°And old Madam Reed, or ters, ed by you to seek a place, I suppose?¡± ¡°No, sir; I am not on sucerms ives as ify me in asking favours of t I sise.¡± ¡°You s!¡± your peril you advertise! I en pounds. Give me back nine pounds, Jane; I¡¯ve a use for it.¡± ¡°And so urned, putting my spare t.¡± ¡°Little niggard!¡± said ! Give me five pounds, Jane.¡± ¡°Not five shillings, sir; nor five pence.¡± ¡°Just let me look at the cash.¡± ¡°No, sir; you are not to be trusted.¡± ¡°Jane!¡± ¡°Sir?¡± ¡°Promise me one thing.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll promise you anyt I to perform.¡± ¡°Not to advertise: and to trust t of a situation to me. I¡¯ll find you one in time.¡± ¡°I so do, sir, if you, in your turn, I and Ad¨¨le s of ters it.¡± ¡°Very . You go to- morrohen?¡± ¡°Yes, sir; early.¡± ¡°So ter dinner?¡± ¡°No, sir, I must prepare for the journey.¡± ¡°t bid good-bye for a little while?¡± ¡°I suppose so, sir.¡± ¡°And ceremony of parting, Jane? teac quite up to it.¡± ¡°they prefer.¡± ¡°t.¡± ¡°Fare.¡± ¡° must I say?¡± ¡°the same, if you like, sir.¡± ¡°Fare; is t all?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°It seems stingy, to my notions, and dry, and unfriendly. I stle addition to te. If one sance; but no¡ªt content me eithan say Farewell, Jane?¡± ¡°It is enougy word as in many.¡± ¡°Very likely; but it is blank and cool¡ª¡®Farewell.¡¯¡± ¡°o stand t door?¡± I asked myself; ¡°I to commence my packing.¡± ted, anothe morning. I reac Gates five o¡¯clock in ternoon of t of May: I stepped in to t : tal le ains; tless; te and fire-irons clear. Bessie sat on t-born, and Robert and er played quietly in a corner. ¡°Bless you!¡ªI kneered. ¡°Yes, Bessie,¡± said I, after I rust I am not too late. ill, I hope.¡± ¡°Yes, sed tor says s; but hinks she will finally recover.¡± ¡°ioned me lately?¡± ¡°Salking of you only t sen minutes ago, ernoon, and six or seven. ill you rest yourself h you?¡± Robert ered, and Bessie laid to aking off my bonnet and ea; for sired. I o accept ality; and I submitted to be relieved of my travelling garb just as passively as I used to let her undress me when a child. Old times cro back on me as I cling about¡ª setting out tea-tray cting bread and butter, toasting a tea-cake, and, betle Robert or Jane an occasional tap or pus as so give me in former days. Bessie ained emper as and good looks. tea ready, I o approacable; but so sit still, quite in ory tones. I must be served at ttle round stand e of toast, absolutely as so accommodate me ely purloined dainty on a nursery chair: and I smiled and obeyed her as in bygone days. Sed to kno sort of a person tress e a gentleman; and t reated me kindly, and I ent. t on to describe to ely been staying at to tails Bessie listened erest: the kind she relished. In sucion an ored to me my bonnet, amp;c., and, accompanied by ted t e and embittered ¡ªa sense of outla of reprobation¡ªto seek t bourne so far aile roof nos ful yet; and I an ac. I still felt as a I experienced firmer trust in myself and my ooo, e ment extinguished. ¡°You so t-room first,¡± said Bessie, as shere.¡± In anot I apartment. ticle of furniture looking just as it did on t introduced to Mr. Brockle: tood upon still covered t t I could distinguisisravels and ts ranged just above. te objects c tered past recognition. tall, almost as tall as Miss Ingram¡ªvery too, ic in ed by treme plainness of a straiged, black, stuff dress, a starcemples, and t of a string of ebony beads and a crucifix. t sure race little resemblance to elongated and colourless visage. tainly Georgiana: but not tures, languised yello its fas from er¡¯s¡ªso muc looked as stylisanical. In eacers trait of ter ¡¯s Cairngorm eye: t younger girl our of jale softened, but still imparting an indescribable o tenance otuous and buxom. Boto ing voice, a smile; and t do me. Georgiana added to my journey, ttered in ratone: and accompanied by sundry side-glances t measured me from o foot¡ªnoraversing trimming of my cottage bonnet. Young ladies ting you kno t actually saying tain superciliousness of look, coolness of manner, noncone, express fully timents on t, committing tive rudeness in word or deed. A sneer, or open, po once possessed: as I sat beto find under total neglect of tic attentions of t mortify, nor Georgiana ruffle me. t ; feirred in me so mucent te and exquisite ed t o inflict or besto ther for good or bad. ¡° Georgiana, to bridle at t address, as if it ed liberty. ¡°Mrs. Reed? Aremely poorly: I doubt if you can see o-night.¡± ¡°If,¡± said I, ¡°you step upstairs and tell o you.¡± Georgiana almost started, and sicular defer attending to ely necessary.¡± ¡°Mama dislikes being disturbed in an evening,¡± remarked Eliza. I soon rose, quietly took off my bonnet and gloves, uninvited, and said I step out to Bessie¡ªain to-nig, and co take furt ofore been my alo so-day, I so quit Gates morning; no o me all at once t t , and I must stay ill ster¡ªor dead: as to ers¡¯ pride or folly, I must put it on one side, make myself independent of it. So I addressed to sold or o my c t Bessie on the landing. ¡°Missis is awake,¡± said sold us see if she will know you.¡± I did not need to be guided to to or reprimand in former days. I ened before Bessie; I softly opened t stood on table, for it ting dark. t four-post bed oilet- table, tstool, at enced to kneel, to ask pardon for offences by me uncommitted. I looked into a certain corner near, ing to see tline of a once dreaded sco lurk ting to leap out imp-like and lace my quivering palm or sains and leant over the high-piled pillows. ell did I remember Mrs. Reed¡¯s face, and I eagerly soug is a time quells tings of rage and aversion. I tterness and e, and I came back to ion t of rut sufferings, and a strong yearning to forget and forgive all injuries¡ªto be reconciled and clasp y. tern, relentless as ever¡ªt peculiar eye raised, imperious, despotic eyebroraced its I stooped down and kissed me. ¡°Is this Jane Eyre?¡± she said. ¡°Yes, Aunt Reed. ?¡± I I it no sin to forget and break t vo: t moment rue pleasure. But unimpressionable natures are not so soon softened, nor are natural antipated. Mrs. Reed took urning t once t oo tenderness, indissoluble to tears¡ªt so consider me bad to t; because to believe me good ion. I felt pain, and t ire; and t a determination to subdue o be ress in spite boture and ears as in co t a co t dohe pillow. ¡°You sent for me,¡± I said, ¡°and I am is my intention to stay till I see on.¡± ¡°Oers?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°ell, you may tell to stay till I can talk some to-nig is too late, and I y in recalling t to say¡ªlet me see¡ª¡± tterance told lessly, sing on a corner of t, fixed it doated. ¡°Sit up!¡± said s annoy me . Are you Jane Eyre?¡± ¡°I am Jane Eyre.¡± ¡°I rouble co be left on my ion, and arts of temper, and inual, unnatural cs! I declare salked to me once like someto get did t Lo t die: but I said she did¡ªI wish she had died!¡± ¡°A strange wise her so?¡± ¡°I o er, and a great favourite like a simpleton. reated o put it out to nurse and pay for its maintenance. I ed it t time I set my eyes on it¡ªa sickly, s cradle all nig screaming ily like any ot ; and o nurse it and notice it as if it iced t age. ry to make my co ttle beggar: t bear it, and illness, brouginually to an o keep ture. I of a all resemble : Joe a Gibson. Oormenting me ters for money? I o give ting poor. I must send a of t it off. I can never submit to do t¡ªyet o get on? terest of mortgages. Jo by sful¡ªI feel ashamed for him when I see him.¡± Sting muced. ¡°I tter leave o Bessie, he bed. ¡°Per sen talks in towards nighe morning she is calmer.¡± I rose. ¡°Stop!¡± exclaimed Mrs. Reed, ¡°to say. ens me¡ªinually tens me imes t I see o a strange pass: I roubles. is to be done? o be had?¡± Bessie noo persuade o take a sedative draugy. Soon after, Mrs. Reed greo a dozing state. I t her. More ten days elapsed before I ion inued eitor forbade everyte ime, I got on as first. Eliza ing, and scarcely utter a o me or er. Georgiana er nonsense to ake no notice of me. But I ermined not to seem at a loss for occupation or amusement: I my draerials h. Provided s of paper, I used to take a seat apart from tctes, representing any scene t arily to sself in ting kaleidoscope of imagination: a glimpse of sea bets disk; a group of reeds and er-flags, and a naiad¡¯s us-flo of tting in a , under a horn- bloom One morning I fell to sketc sort of a face it o be, I did not care or knoook a soft black pencil, gave it a broad point, and foreline of visage: t contour gave me pleasure; my fingers proceeded actively to fill it ures. Strongly-marked al eyebro be traced under t brourally, a raigrils; t do: of course, some black ty ufted on temples, and to t, because t careful raced long and sombre; trous and large. ¡°Good! but not quite t, as I surveyed t: ¡°t more force and spirit;¡± and I s migly¡ªa ouc did it signify t turned t it; I smiled at tent. ¡°Is t a portrait of some one you kno it s. Of course, I lied: it , a very faitation of Mr. Rocer. But to o any one but myself? Georgiana also advanced to look. t s ¡°an ugly man.¡± t my skill. I offered to sketcraits; and eacurn, sat for a pencil outline. to contribute a er-colour dra once into good tion: sion of t er s in London tion sed¡ª ttention s s of titled conquest sernoon and evening ts conversations ed, and sentimental scenes represented; and, in s, a volume of a novel of fas day improvised by . tions o day: t range sed eito gloomy state of ts. aken up gaiety, and aspirations after dissipations to come. S five minutes eacher¡¯s sick-room, and no more. Eliza still spoke little: sly no time to talk. I never sao be; yet it to say of o call , but after t meal sime into regular portions, and eacs allotted task. times a day sudied a little book, attraction of t volume, and so stitc large enoug. In anso my inquiries after ticle, s ar of a need near Gateso o ion of s. So no company; no conversation. I believe sine sufficed for s clocky. Sold me one evening, ive t Jo, and tened ruin of tion to stled ion. une saken care to secure; and se a long-c: seek a retirement ly secured from disturbance, and place safe barriers between herself and a frivolous world. I asked if Georgiana would accompany her. ¡°Of course not. Georgiana and s be burdened y for any consideration. Georgiana sake ake hers.¡± Georgiana, o me, spent most of ime in lying on tting about t Gibson ion up to to er,¡± s out of till all ask I suppose so ted decease of es. Eliza generally took no more notice of er¡¯s indolence and complaints t away -book and unfolded ook hus¡ª ¡°Georgiana, a more vain and absurd animal tainly never alloo cumber t to be born, for you make no use of life. Instead of living for, in, and , you seek only to fasten your feebleness on some otrengto burden , t you are ill-treated, neglected, miserable. too, existence for you must be a scene of continual cement, or else t be admired, you must be courted, you must be flattered¡ªyou must y¡ªor you languiso devise a system s, and all your oake one day; s into sections; to eacion apportion its task: leave no stray unemployed quarters of an en minutes, five minutes¡ªinclude all; do eacs turn y. t before you are a ed to no one for o get rid of one vacant moment: you o seek no one¡¯s company, conversation, sympat, as an independent being ougo do. take t and last I s me or any one else, may. Neglect it¡ªgo on as ofore, craving, en: for t to say, I seadily act on it. After my moto t in Gatese as if because s, I so fasten me do claim: I can tell you ted, aood alone on take myself to the new.¡± She closed her lips. ¡°You migrouble of delivering t tirade,¡± ans selfisless creature in existence: and I knoeful red torick you played me about Lord Ed bear me to be raised above you, to itle, to be received into circles s for ever.¡± Georgiana took out er cold, impassable, and assiduously industrious. true, generous feeling is made small account of by some, but ures rendered, tolerably acrid, t of it. Feeling judgment is a judgment untempered by feeling is too bitter and ition. It and ernoon: Georgiana o attend a saint¡¯s-day service at tters of religion s: no ed tual disc sional duties; fair or foul, s to cen on here were prayers. I bet myself to go upstairs and see uns paid a remittent attention: ttle looked after, of t so mind, and could only come occasionally to tced: no nurse ient lay still, and seemingly lete. I rene noo the window. t strongly against tempestuously: ¡°One lies t, ¡°¡ªnoruggling to quit its material tenement¡ªflit h released?¡± In pondering t mystery, I t of rine of ty of disembodied souls. I ill listening in t to ones¡ªstill picturing ual aspect, ed face and sublime gaze, as so be restored to ?¡± I kneo her. ¡°It is I, Aunt Reed.¡± ¡° me of alarm, but still not e a stranger to me¡ªwhere is Bessie?¡± ¡°S t.¡± ¡°Aunt,¡± sed. ¡°? You are not one of t I kno face, and t familiar to me: you are like¡ªwhy, you are like Jane Eyre!¡± I said notity. ¡°Yet,¡± said s is a mistake: my ts deceive me. I o be: and seeing t I ood, and t e collected, I explained o fetchornfield. ¡°I am very ill, I knoo turn myself a fees since, and find I cannot move a limb. It is as tle of in suc is to me. Is t you?¡± I assured her we were alone. ¡°ell, I o bring you up as my oer all, it is of no great importance, pero better; and to o her is painful.¡± S to alter ion, but failed: o experience some inion¡ªt pang. ¡°ell, I must get it over. Eternity is before me: I ter tell o my dressing-case, open it, and take out a letter you here.¡± I obeyed ions. ¡°Read tter,¡± she said. It hus conceived:¡ª ¡°Madam,¡ªill you o send me to tell me is my intention to e sly and desire o come to me at Madeira. Providence o secure a competency; and as I am unmarried and co adopt my deatever I may o leave.¡ªI am, Madam, etc., etc., ¡°John Eyre, Madeira.¡± It ed three years back. ¡°his?¡± I asked. ¡°Because I disliked you too fixedly and to lend a ing you to prosperity. I could not forget your conduct to me, Jane¡ªturned on me; tone in t of me made you sick, and asserted t I reated you y. I could not forget my oions ed up and poured out t fear as if an animal t I ruck or pus me er! Oe!¡± ¡°Dear Mrs. Reed,¡± said I, as I offered s it pass ae language: I was a c, nine years day.¡± S I said; but ed ter and dra on thus¡ª ¡°I tell you I could not forget it; and I took my revenge: for you to be adopted by your uncle, and placed in a state of ease and comfort, endure. I e to ment, but Jane Eyre as you please: e and contradict my assertion¡ªexpose my falseo be my torment: my last ion of a deed ed to commit.¡± ¡°If you could but be persuaded to t, aunt, and to regard me h kindness and forgiveness¡± ¡°You ion,¡± said so t impossible to understand: ient and quiescent under any treatment, and in tent all fire and violence, I can never comprehend.¡± ¡°My disposition is not so bad as you te, but not vindictive. Many a time, as a little co love you if you ly to be reconciled to you no.¡± I approaco touc. Ser. As I laid ed ouche glazing eyes shunned my gaze. ¡°Love me, te me, as you last, ¡°you peace.¡± Poor, suffering oo late for o make no to cual frame of mind: living, sed me¡ªdying, s e me still. tered, and Bessie follo lingered o see some sign of amity: but s relapsing into stupor; nor did t nig present to close ers. to tell us t morning t all ime laid out. Eliza and I to look at out into loud retc and active frame, rigid and still: s cold lid; rong traits trange and solemn object corpse to me. I gazed on it , not, notying, or inspire; only a grating anguis my loss¡ªand a sombre tearless dismay at th in such a form. Eliza surveyed calmly. After a silence of some minutes she observed¡ª ¡°ititution so a good old age: ened by trouble.¡± And tricted ant: as it passed a t a tear. Chapter 22 Mr. Rocer one a montted Gateso leave immediately after t Georgiana entreated me to stay till s off to London, invited by o direct er¡¯s interment and settle t alone neition, support in ions; so I bore ations as in serue, t o myself, ¡°If you and I ined to live alogetters on a different footing. I s settle tamely doo being ty; I so accomplis, or else it s undone: I s, also, on your keeping some of ts . It is only because our connection o be very transitory, and comes at a peculiarly mournful season, t I consent to render it so patient and compliant on my part.¡± At last I sa no urn to request me to stay anotime and attention, s to depart for some unknorunks, emptying drao look after to see callers, and anses of condolence. One morning sold me I liberty. ¡°And,¡± so you for your valuable services and discreet conduct! t in life and burden no one. to-morro out for tinent. I sake up my abode in a religious ; t and unmolested. I se myself for a time to tion of to a careful study of tem: if I find it to be, as I it is, t calculated to ensure tly and in order, I senets of Rome and probably take the veil.¡± I neit tion nor attempted to dissuade . ¡°tion you to a : ¡°muc do you!¡± ed, she said: ¡°Good-bye, cousin Jane Eyre; I wish you well: you have some sense.¡± I turned: ¡°You are not sense, cousin Eliza; but my business, and so it suits you, I don¡¯t much care.¡± ¡°You are in t,¡± said s our separate o er again, I may as ion Georgiana made an advantageous matc man of fas Eliza actually took t t e, and wune. urning , I did not kno o come back to Gateser a long o be scolded for looking cold or gloomy; and later, o come back from co Loo long for a plenteous meal and a good fire, and to be unable to get eiturnings or desirable: no magnet dreo a given point, increasing in its strengttraction turn to t to be tried. My journey seemed tedious¡ªvery tedious: fifty miles one day, a nig at an inn; fifty miles t day. During t ts; I saered voice. I mused on train of tenants and servants¡ªfeives¡ªt, t c of Eliza and Georgiana; I bee of a convent cell; and I d on and analysed te peculiarities of person and cer. t t totered ts; nige anoturn: laid doraveller¡¯s bed, I left reminiscence for anticipation. I o t o stay t long; of t I y at ter for London t ed to return in a fortnig o make arrangements for alked of purcill seemed strange to from t ake place. ¡°You rangely incredulous if you did doubt it,¡± al comment. ¡°I don¡¯t doubt it.¡± tion follo of Miss Ingram all t: in a vivid morning dream I sa me and pointing me out anoter looked on seemed, at both her and me. I notified to Mrs. Fairfax t day of my return; for I did not me at Millcote. I proposed to ance quietly by myself; and very quietly, after leaving my box in tler¡¯s care, did I slip a six o¡¯clock of a June evening, and take to ttle frequented. It a brig: t ure: its blue¡ªs cloud strata , too, ery gleam c¡ªit seemed as if t, an altar burning bes screen of marbled vapour, and out of apertures s£ô£ð://</bdo> I felt glad as tened before me: so glad t I stopped once to ask myself joy meant: and to remind reason t it to my o a permanent resting-place, or to a place ed my arrival. ¡°Mrs. Fairfax o be sure,¡± said I; ¡°and little Ad¨¨le you kno thinking of you.¡± But so blind as inexperience? t it en! en! be a fe most, and you are parted from rangled a ne persuade myself to own and rear¡ªand ran on. too, in t quitting turning t a field or to traverse, and tes. I ime to gat to be at tall briar, sing leafy and floone steps; and I see¡ªMr. Rocer sitting ting. ell, a g; yet every nerve I rung: for a moment I am beyond my oery. does it mean? I did not tremble in tion in ir: I need not make an absolute fool of myself. I knoo t does not signify if I kney ways; for he has seen me. ¡°s up here you are! Come on, if you please.¡± I suppose I do come on; t fas; being scarcely cognisant of my movements, and solicitous only to appear calm; and, above all, to control tly against my ruggle to express I is do to be composure. ¡°And te, and on foot? Yes¡ªjust one of your tricks: not to send for a carriage, and come clattering over street and road like a common mortal, but to steal into t month?¡± ¡°I , sir, who is dead.¡± ¡°A true Janian reply! Good angels be my guard! Sells me so ance or s I¡¯d as soon offer to take uus ligruant! truant!¡± ant. ¡°Absent from me a e, I¡¯ll be sworn!¡± I kneing my master again, even t o cease to be my master, and by t I o ter (so at least I t) sucing to taste but of ttered to stray and stranger birds like me, o feast genially. o imply t it imported someto . And it were my home! leave tile, and I o ask to go by. I inquired soon if been to London. ¡°Yes; I suppose you found t out by second-sight.¡± ¡°Mrs. Fairfax told me in a letter.¡± ¡°And did s I to do?¡± ¡°Oh, yes, sir! Everybody knew your errand.¡± ¡°You must see tell me if you don¡¯t t Mrs. Rocer exactly; and trifle better adapted to matcernally. tell me no you give me a cer, or somet sort, to make me a handsome man?¡± ¡°It t, I added, ¡°A loving eye is all to sucernness y.¡± Mr. Rocer imes read my unspoken ts o me incompre instance ook no notice of my abrupt vocal response; but me ain smile on rare occasions. o t too good for common purposes: it over me now. ¡°Pass, Janet,¡± said o cross tile: ¡°go up ay your tle at a friend¡¯s threshold.¡± All I o do o obey o colloquise furt over tile a to leave ¡ªa force turned me round. I said¡ªor somete of me¡ª ¡°ter, for your great kindness. I am strangely glad to get back again to you: and wherever you are is my home¡ªmy only home.¡± I t even aken me ried. Little Ad¨¨le of being loved by your felloures, and feeling t your presence is an addition to t. I t evening s my eyes resolutely against ture: I stopped my cars against t kept ion and coming grief. ea ing, and I near , led close up to me, and a sense of mutual affection seemed to surround us tered a silent prayer t ed far or soon; but ered, unannounced, and looking at us, seemed to take pleasure in tacle of a group so amicable¡ª s ed daug e e croquer sa petite maman Anglaise¡±¡ªI ured to er ogeter of ection, and not quite exiled from the sunshine of his presence. A fortnigurn to ter¡¯s marriage, and I saion going on for suc. Almost every day I asked Mrs. Fairfax if s ive. Once sually put tion to Mr. Rocer as to ell o make of him. One t s to Ingram Park: to be sure it y miles off, on ty; but distance to an ardent lover? to so practised and indefatigable a er, it a morning¡¯s ride. I began to c to conceive: t tc rumour aken; t one or boties o look at my master¡¯s face to see if it I could not remember time s and sank into inevitable dejection, ly to o me where¡ªand, alas! never had I loved him so well. Chapter 23 A splendid Midsummer s as land. It alian days ed to rest t in; te and baked; trees inted, contrasted ween. On Midsummer-eve, Ad¨¨le, rac the garden. It est y-four:- ¡°Day its fervid fires ed,¡± and deing plain and scorc. ate¡ªpure of t of red je one point, on one ending and still softer, over s o gem, a casino and solitary star: soon it t s beneathe horizon. I a subtle, ¡ª t of a cigar¡ªstole from some open a be c apart into tered and more Eden-like; it rees, it bloomed it out from t, on one side; on t from t ttom s sole separation from lonely fields: a erminating in a giant nut, circled at t, led doo t as if I could suc in t parterres at t of ticed t t on ter, my step is stayed¡ª not by sound, not by sig once more by a warning fragrance. S-briar and sout is neit is¡ªI kno is Mr. Rocer¡¯s cigar. I look round and I listen. I see trees laden . I ingale t perfume increases: I must flee. I make for t leading to ter entering. I step aside into t stay long: urn ill he will never see me. But no¡ªeventide is as pleasant to o me, and tique garden as attractive; and rolls on, noing tree branco look at t, large as plums, aking a ripe cooping to of floo ino admire tals. A great mot alig at Mr. Rocer¡¯s foot: , and bends to examine it. ¡°No I, ¡°and oo; perly, I can slip aiced.¡± I trode on an edging of turf t t not betray me: anding among t a yard or tant from ly engaged by very ated. As I crossed yet risen ly, turning¡ª ¡°Jane, come and look at this fellow.¡± I eyes bearted at first, and then I approached him. ¡°Look at Indian insect; one does not often see so large and gay a nighere! he is flown.¡± treating also; but Mr. Rocer followed me, and w, he said¡ª ¡°turn back: on so lovely a nig is a so sit in to go to bed meeting h moonrise.¡± It is one of my faults, t tongue is sometimes prompt enoug an ansimes some crisis, is specially ed to get me out of painful embarrassment. I did not like to ter in t I could not find a reason to allege for leaving ep, and ts busily bent on discovering a means of extrication; but ent or prospective to lie . ¡°Jane,¡± ered trayed doion of tnut, ¡°t place in summer, is it not?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°You must taco tural beauties, and a good deal of the organ of Adhesiveness?¡± ¡°I am attaco it, indeed.¡± ¡°And t compre is, I perceive you foolistle coo; and even for simple dame Fairfax?¡± ¡°Yes, sir; in different h.¡± ¡°And o part hem?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Pity!¡± is als in tinued presently: ¡°no sooner settled in a pleasant resting-place, t to you to rise and move on, for the hour of repose is expired.¡± ¡°Must I move on, sir?¡± I asked. ¡°Must I leave thornfield?¡± ¡°I believe you must, Jane. I am sorry, Janet, but I believe indeed you must.¡± t I did not let it prostrate me. ¡°ell, sir, I so march comes.¡± ¡°It is come no give it to-night.¡± ¡°to be married, sir?¡± ¡°Ex-act-ly¡ªpre-cise-ly: eness, you traighe head.¡± ¡°Soon, sir?¡± ¡°Very soon, my¡ªt is, Miss Eyre: and you¡¯ll remember, Jane, t time I, or Rumour, plainly intimated to you t it ention to put my old baco to enter into tate of matrimony¡ªto take Miss Ingram to my bosom, in s (sensive armful: but t¡¯s not to t¡ªone can¡¯t oo muc tiful Blancen to me, Jane! You¡¯re not turning your o look after more mot it o me, discretion I respect in you¡ª foresigy position¡ªt in case I married Miss Ingram, bottle Ad¨¨le ter trot fort of slur conveyed in tion on ter of my beloved; indeed, ry to forget it: I sice only its ion. Ad¨¨le must go to sc get a neuation.¡± ¡°Yes, sir, I ise immediately: and meantime, I suppose¡ª¡± I o say, ¡°I suppose I may stay ill I find anoter to betake myself to:¡± but I stopped, feeling it do to risk a long sentence, for my voice quite under command. ¡°In about a monto be a bridegroom,¡± continued Mr. Rocer; ¡°and in terim, I s for employment and an asylum for you.¡± ¡°to give¡ª¡± ¡°Oo apologise! I consider t le assistance ly render ure mot I t: it is to undertake tion of ters of Mrs. Dionysius O¡¯Gall of Bitternutt Lodge, Connauged people they say.¡± ¡°It is a long way off, sir.¡± ¡°No matter¡ªa girl of your sense object to tance.¡± ¡°Not t tance: and the sea is a barrier¡ª¡± ¡°From w, Jane?¡± ¡°From England and from thornfield: and¡ª¡± ¡°ell?¡± ¡°From you, sir.¡± I said t involuntarily, and, tle sanction of free ears gus. I did not cry so as to be of Mrs. O¡¯Gall and Bitternutt Lodge struck cold to my ; and colder t of all tined, as it seemed, to ruser at e, custom intervened beturally and inevitably loved. ¡°It is a long way,¡± I again said. ¡°It is, to be sure; and o Bitternutt Lodge, Connaug¡¯s morally certain. I never go over to Ireland, not ry. e ?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°And o spend ttle time t remains to to eacalk over ting quietly ars enter into tnut tree: its old roots. Come, to-nigined to sit togeted me and himself. ¡°It is a long o Ireland, Janet, and I am sorry to send my little friend on sucravels: but if I can¡¯t do better, to be o me, do you think, Jane?¡± I could risk no sort of ansime: my ill. ¡°Because,¡± imes o you¡ªespecially igricably knotted to a similar string situated in ter of your little frame. And if t boisterous C cord of communion ; and tion I sake to bleeding in me.¡± ¡°t I never so proceed. ¡°Jane, do you nigen!¡± In listening, I sobbed convulsively; for I could repress o yield, and I e distress. o express an impetuous hornfield. ¡°Because you are sorry to leave it?¡± tion, stirred by grief and love ery, and struggling for full sing a rigo predominate, to overcome, to live, rise, and reign at last: yes,¡ªand to speak. ¡°I grieve to leave t, because I a full and deligarily at least. I been trampled on. I been petrified. I been buried is brigic and alked, face to face, I reverence, I deliger; and it strikes me error and anguiso feel I absolutely must be torn from you for ever. I see ty of departure; and it is like looking on ty of death.¡± ¡°y?¡± he asked suddenly. ¡° before me.¡± ¡°In w shape?¡± ¡°In tiful woman,¡ªyour bride.¡± ¡°My bride! bride? I have no bride!¡± ¡°But you will have.¡± ¡°Yes;¡ªI h. ¡°t go:- you yourself.¡± ¡°No: you must stay! I s¡ªand t.¡± ¡°I tell you I must go!¡± I retorted, roused to sometay to become noto you? Do you tomaton?¡ªa mac feelings? and can bear to cer dastle, I am soulless and less? You t! And if God ed me y and muc as o leave me, as it is noo leave you. I am not talking to you noom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal fles is my spirit t addresses your spirit; just as if botood at God¡¯s feet, equal,¡ªas we are!¡± ¡°As ed Mr. Rocer¡ª¡°so,¡± o , pressing his lips on my lips: ¡°so, Jane!¡± ¡°Yes, so, sir,¡± I rejoined: ¡°and yet not so; for you are a married man¡ªor as good as a married man, and o one inferior to you¡ªto one believe you truly love; for I ter t me go!¡± ¡°o Ireland?¡± ¡°Yes¡ªto Ireland. I have spoken my mind, and can go anywhere now.¡± ¡°Jane, be still; don¡¯t struggle so, like a ic bird t is rending its os desperation.¡± ¡°I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free o leave you.¡± Anot set me at liberty, and I stood erect before him. ¡°And your will siny,¡± , and a share of all my possessions.¡± ¡°You play a farce, w.¡± ¡°I ask you to pass t my side¡ªto be my second self, and best earthly companion.¡± ¡°For t fate you abide by it.¡± ¡°Jane, be still a fes: you are over-excited: I ill too.¡± A of rembled tnut: it o an indefinite distance¡ªit died. tingale¡¯s song ening to it, I again . Mr. Rocer sat quiet, looking at me gently and seriously. Some time passed before last said¡ª ¡°Come to my side, Jane, and let us explain and understand one another.¡± ¡°I o your side: I am torn a return.¡± ¡°But, Jane, I summon you as my is you only I intend to marry.¡± I : I t he mocked me. ¡°Come, Jane¡ªcome her.¡± ¡°Your bride stands between us.¡± ride reached me. ¡°My bride is o him, ¡°because my equal is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you marry me?¡± Still I did not ansill I ill incredulous. ¡°Do you doubt me, Jane?¡± ¡°Entirely.¡± ¡°You h in me?¡± ¡°Not a w.¡± ¡°Am I a liar in your eyes?¡± ely. ¡°Little sceptic, you s love you knoo prove: I caused a rumour to reac my fortune a t er t I presented myself to see t; it ¡ªI could not¡ªmarry Miss Ingram. You¡ª you strange, you almost uneartreat to accept me as a husband.¡± ¡°, me!¡± I ejaculated, beginning in ness¡ªand especially in y¡ªto credit y: ¡°me you- if you are my friend: not a s w you have given me?¡± ¡°You, Jane, I must irely my own. ill you be mine? Say yes, quickly.¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer, let me look at your face: turn to t.¡± ¡°hy?¡± ¡°Because I to read your countenance¡ªturn!¡± ¡°t scarcely more legible tce, for I suffer.¡± ated and very mucrong ures, and strange gleams in the eyes ¡°Oorture me!¡± searc faitorture me!¡± ¡°? If you are true, and your offer real, my only feelings to you must be gratitude and devotion¡ªt torture.¡± ¡°Gratitude!¡± ed; and added me quickly. Say, Edward¡ªgive me my name¡ªEdward¡ªI will marry you.¡± ¡°Are you in earnest? Do you truly love me? Do you sincerely wiso be your wife?¡± ¡°I do; and if an oato satisfy you, I s.¡± ¡°then, sir, I will marry you.¡± ¡°Edtle wife!¡± ¡°Dear Edward!¡± ¡°Come to me¡ªcome to me entirely noone, speaking in my ear as his cheek was laid on mine, ¡°Make my happiness¡ªI will make yours.¡± ¡°God pardon me!¡± h me: I have her, and will hold her.¡± ¡°to meddle, sir. I o interfere.¡± ¡°No¡ªt is t of it,¡± and look of exultation savage; but, sitting by mare of parting¡ªcalled to t only of to drink in so abundant a floone¡ªit one. found less? ill I not guard, and c love in my , and constancy in my resolves? It e at God¡¯s tribunal. I knoions ¡ªI was.¡± But yet set, and nut tree? it he laurel walk, and came sweeping over us. ¡°e must go in,¡± said Mr. Rocer: ¡°t ill morning, Jane.¡± ¡°And so,¡± t I, ¡°could I a livid, vivid spark leapt out of a cloud at only of Mr. Rocer¡¯s shoulder. to t e before aking off my ser out of my loosened observe first, nor did Mr. Rocer. t. troke of twelve. ¡°en to take off your t¡ªgood-night, my darling!¡± edly. ood t airs. ¡°Explanation ime,¡± t I. Still, temporarily misconstrue as tning gleamed, cataract-like as torm of ttle ao my door in t, to ask if I ranquil: and t , t rengthing. Before I left my bed in ttle Ad¨¨le came running in to tell me t t nut at ttom of truck by lig, and split away. Chapter 24 As I rose and dressed, I t over be certain of ty till I er again, and heard him renew his words of love and promise. my face in t it s aspect and life in its colour; and my eyes seemed as if t of fruition, and borrorous ripple. I en been uno look at my master, because I feared be pleased at my look; but I o cool ion by its expression. I took a plain but clean and lig it on: it seemed no attire had ever so well become me, because none had I ever worn in so blissful a mood. I surprised, o see t a brilliant June morning o tempest of t; and to feel, t breeze. Nature must be gladsome s boto partake of my jubilee. t not. Mrs. Fairfax surprised me by looking out of tenance, and saying gravely¡ª¡°Miss Eyre, o breakfast?¡± During t and cool: but I could not undeceive for my master to give explanations; and so must se ened upstairs. I met Ad¨¨le leaving the schoolroom. ¡° is time for lessons.¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer me ao the nursery.¡± ¡°here is he?¡± ¡°In ting to tment s; and I in, and tood. ¡°Come and bid me good-morning,¡± said merely a cold an embrace and a kiss. It seemed natural: it seemed genial to be so well loved, so caressed by him. ¡°Jane, you look blooming, and smiling, and pretty,¡± said ruly pretty ttle elf? Is tard-seed? ttle sunny-faced girl in-smoot you must excuse take: for hey were new-dyed, I suppose.) ¡°It is Jane Eyre, sir.¡± ¡°Soon to be Jane Rocer,¡± ; not a day more. Do you ?¡± I did, and I could not quite compre: it made me giddy. t sent tronger tent smote and stunned. It fear. ¡°You bluse, Jane: for?¡± ¡°Because you gave me a ne seems so strange.¡± ¡°Yes, Mrs. Rocer,¡± said er¡ªFairfax Rocer¡¯s girl-bride.¡± ¡°It can never be, sir; it does not sound likely. e born for a different destiny to t of my species: to imagine suc befalling me is a fairy tale¡ªa day-dream.¡± ¡°o-day. te to my banker in London to send me certain jeo your lap: for every privilege, every attention s I o marry her.¡± ¡°O like to ural and strange: I hem.¡± ¡°I t on your fore ure, at least, amped ent of nobility on ts on ts, and load th rings.¡± ¡°No, no, sir! ts, and speak of otrain. Don¡¯t address me as if I y; I am your plain, Quakerish governess.¡± ¡°You are a beauty in my eyes, and a beauty just after t,¡ªdelicate and aerial.¡± ¡°Puny and insignificant, you mean. You are dreaming, sir,¡ªor you are sneering. For God¡¯s sake don¡¯t be ironical!¡± ¡°I y, too,¡± on, rain ed, because I felt rying to delude me. ¡°I tire my Jane in satin and lace, and s h a priceless veil.¡± ¡°And t kno an ape in a ¡ªa jay in borroricked out in stage-trappings, as myself clad in a court-lady¡¯s robe; and I don¡¯t call you dearly: far too dearly to flatter you. Don¡¯t flatter me.¡± noticing my deprecation. ¡°take you in to Millcote, and you must cold you ake place quietly, in t you a once to toer a brief stay treasure to regions nearer to Frencalian plains; and sever is famous in old story and in modern record: saste, too, of ties; and so value comparison hers.¡± ¡°Sravel?¡ªand h you, sir?¡± ¡°You s Paris, Rome, and Naples: at Florence, Venice, and Vienna: all trodden by you: en years since, I fle, e, and rage as my companions: no er.¡± I laug an angel,¡± I asserted; ¡°and I be one till I die: I neit nor exact anytial of me¡ªfor you get it, any more t it of you: all anticipate.¡± ¡° do you anticipate of me?¡± ¡°For a little ern, and I so please you: but o me, you ten by men, t period assigned as t to , after all, as a friend and companion, I o become quite distasteful to my dear master.¡± ¡°Distasteful! and like you again! I t again: and I only like, but love you¡ªrutancy.¡± ¡°Yet are you not capricious, sir?¡± ¡°to s¡ªive of flatness, triviality, and pery, coarseness, and ill-temper: but to t tongue, to ter t bends but does not break¡ªat once supple and stable, tractable and consistent¡ªI am ever tender and true.¡± ¡°er, sir? Did you ever love such an one?¡± ¡°I love it now.¡± ¡°But before me: if I, indeed, in any respect come up to your difficult standard?¡± ¡°I never met your likeness. Jane, you please me, and you master me¡ªyou seem to submit, and I like t; and , silken skein round my finger, it sends a to my . I am influenced¡ªconquered; and ter t I undergo criump does t inexplicable, t uncanny turn of countenance mean?¡± ¡°I ary), I heir charmers¡ª¡± ¡°You tle elfish¡ª¡± ¡° talk very nolemen acted very y as ness as suitors; and so suit your convenience or pleasure to grant.¡± ¡°Ask me somet to be entreated¡ª¡± ¡°Indeed I ion all ready.¡± ¡°Speak! But if you look up and smile countenance, I so will make a fool of me.¡± ¡°Not at all, sir; I ask only t send for t cro as a border of gold lace round t plain pocket here.¡± ¡°I mig: you request is granted time. I co my banker. But you yet asked for anyt to be ry again.¡± ¡°ell to gratify my curiosity, w.¡± urbed. ¡°? y is a dangerous petition: it is aken a voo accord every request¡ª¡± ¡°But this, sir.¡± ¡°Utter it, Jane: but I ead of a mere inquiry into, per, it e.¡± ¡°No ate? Do you tment in land? I me to your ?¡± ¡°You are o all my confidence t is for God¡¯s sake, don¡¯t desire a useless burden! Don¡¯t long for poison¡ªdon¡¯t turn out a do Eve on my hands!¡± ¡°, sir? You been telling me o be conquered, and over-persuasion is to you. Don¡¯t you tter take advantage of treat¡ªeven cry and be sulky if necessary¡ªfor the sake of a mere essay of my power?¡± ¡°I dare you to any suc. Encroache game is up.¡± ¡°Is it, sir? You soon give in. ern you look noonisry, I once sayled, ¡®a blue-piled t.¡¯ t will be your married look, sir, I suppose?¡± ¡°If t ion of consorting e or salamander. But ?¡± ¡°t deal better ttery. I I o ask,¡ªake suco make me believe you wiso marry Miss Ingram?¡± ¡°Is t all? t is no roked my seeing a danger averted. ¡°I tinued, ¡°even alttle indignant, Jane¡ªand I a fire-spirit you can be last niginied against fate, and claimed your rank as my equal. Janet, by-t was you whe offer.¡± ¡°Of course I did. But to t if you please, sir¡ªMiss Ingram?¡± ¡°ell, I feigned courtso render you as madly in love ally I could call in for t end.¡± ¡°Excellent! No one tle finger. It in t hing of Miss Ingram¡¯s feelings, sir?¡± ¡°rated in one¡ªpride; and t needs humbling. ere you jealous, Jane?¡± ¡°Never mind, Mr. Rocer: it is in no eresting to you to kno. Ansruly once more. Do you t suffer from your dis coquetry? on¡¯t sed?¡± ¡°Impossible!¡ªed me: tinguis.¡± ¡°You er. I am afraid your principles on some points are eccentric.¡± ¡°My principles rained, Jane: ttle a of attention.¡± ¡°Once again, seriously; may I enjoy t good t o me, fearing t any one else is suffering tter pain I myself felt a while ago?¡± ¡°t you may, my good little girl: t anot pleasant unction to my soul, Jane, a belief in your affection.¡± I turned my lips to t lay on my srust myself to say¡ªmore to express. ¡°Ask sometly; ¡°it is my deligo be entreated, and to yield.¡± I . ¡°Communicate your intentions to Mrs. Fairfax, sir: s nigion before I see pains me to be misjudged by so good a woman.¡± ¡°Go to your room, and put on your bonnet,¡± o accompany me to Millcote ten tanding. Did s, you ?¡± ¡°I believe s I ten my station, and yours, sir.¡± ¡°Station! station!¡ªyour station is in my , and on t you, now or er.¡ªGo.¡± I Mrs. Fairfax¡¯s parlour, I o it. tion of Scripture¡ªtacles . ion, suspended by Mr. Rocer¡¯s announcement, seemed noten: e, expressed t mind stirred by uned tidings. Seeing me, s of effort to smile, and framed a feulation; but tence able. ¡°I feel so astonis to say to you, Miss Eyre. I been dreaming, imes I ting alone and fancy t o me more t my dear een years since, do I o do. Noell me ually true t Mr. Rocer o marry laug me. But I really t es ago, and said t in a month you would be his wife.¡± ¡°o me,¡± I replied. ¡°ed him?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± S me be. ers , liked money. oo, o marry you?¡± ¡°ells me so.¡± S to solve the enigma. ¡°It passes me!¡± sinued; ¡°but no doubt, it is true since you say so. tell: I really don¡¯t knoy of position and fortune is often advisable in sucy years of difference in your ages. almost be your father.¡± ¡°No, indeed, Mrs. Fairfax!¡± exclaimed I, nettled; ¡°oget for an instant. Mr. Rocer looks as young, and is as young, as some men at five-and-ty.¡± ¡°Is it really for love o marry you?¡± she asked. I tears rose to my eyes. ¡°I am sorry to grieve you,¡± pursued t you are so young, and so little acquainted o put you on your guard. It is an old saying t ¡®all is not gold t glitters;¡¯ and in to be different to .¡± ¡°er?¡± I said: ¡°is it impossible t Mr. Rocer sion for me?¡± ¡°No: you are very you of pet of imes o put you on your guard: but I did not like to suggest even ty of and sensible, I be trusted to protect yourself. nig tell you er eit th him.¡± ¡°ell, never mind t noerrupted impatiently; ¡°it is enoug all .¡± ¡°I in t believe me, you cannot be too careful. try and keep Mr. Rocer at a distance: distrust yourself as ion are not accustomed to marry their governesses.¡± I ruly irritated: happily, Ad¨¨le ran in. ¡°Let me go,¡ªlet me go to Millcote too!¡± ser : to let me go mademoiselle.¡± ¡°t I o quit my gloomy monitress. t round to t, and my master , Pilot following him backwards and forwards. ¡°Ad¨¨le may accompany us, may s, sir?¡± ¡°I told s!¡ªI¡¯ll have only you.¡± ¡°Do let er, if you please: it ter.¡± ¡°Not it: sraint.¡± e peremptory, bots antiality and uncertainty my t meco obey furtrance; but as o t my face. ¡° is tter?¡± o go? ill it annoy you if s behind?¡± ¡°I , sir.¡± ¡°t, and back like a flasning!¡± cried o Ad¨¨le. S speed s. ¡°After all, a single morning¡¯s interruption matter mucly to claim you¡ªyour ts, conversation, and company¡ªfor life.¡± Ad¨¨le, ude for my intercession: santly stoo a corner on to ern a neigoo restrictive to fractious mood, sions, nor ask of ion. ¡°Let o me,¡± I entreated: ¡°srouble you, sir: ty of room on this side.¡± o sc,¡± now he was smiling. Ad¨¨le o go to school ¡°sans mademoiselle?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± ely sans mademoiselle; for I am to take mademoiselle to te valleys among tops, and mademoiselle shere, and only me.¡± ¡°So eat: you arve her,¡± observed Ad¨¨le. ¡°I s: th manna, Ad¨¨le.¡± ¡°S to warm will she do for a fire?¡± ¡°Fire rises out of tains: wo a peak, and lay er.¡± ¡°Oable! And : new ones?¡± Mr. Rocer professed to be puzzled. ¡° . e or a pink cloud ans a pretty enoug of a rainbow.¡± ¡°Ster as ser musing some time: ¡°besides, s tired of living to go h you.¡± ¡°Sed: she has pledged her word.¡± ¡°But you can¡¯t get o t is all air; and neither you nor she can fly.¡± ¡°Ad¨¨le, look at t field.¡± e side tes, and boe, orm, and, imber trees on eacened green and rain- refreshed. ¡°In t field, Ad¨¨le, I e one evening about a fortnigo make ired doo rest me on a stile; and took out a little book and a pencil, and began to e about a misfortune t befell me long ago, and a ing a, t opped t it. It tle ts to come near me; it stood soon at my knee. I never spoke to it, and it never spoke to me, in I read its eyes, and it read mine; and our speeco t¡ª ¡°It said; and its errand o make me go out of to a lonely place¡ªsucance¡ªand it nodded its oold me of ter cave and silver vale reminded it, as you did me, t I o fly. ¡°¡®Ourned t does not signify! alisman ies;¡¯ and s a pretty gold ring. ¡®Put it,¡¯ s t, under t I mean soon to c to a ring again.¡± ¡°But ? I don¡¯t care for t ake to the moon?¡± ¡°Mademoiselle is a fairy,¡± eriously. old to mind , evinced a fund of genuine Frencicism: denominating Mr. Rocer ¡°un vrai menteur,¡± and assuring s ¡°du reste, il n¡¯y avait pas de f¨¦es, et quand meme il y en avait:¡± so o live he moon. t at Millcote o go to a certain silk o defer it: no¡ªit s of entreaties expressed in energetic y I cores: brilliant amet dye, and a superb pink satin. I told as at once: I sainly never venture to y, for ubborn as a stone, I persuaded o make an excin and pearl-grey silk. ¡°It mig,¡± see me glittering like a parterre.¡± Glad o get of t of a jeion. As ered t back feveris, in ts, dark and brigten¡ªtter of my uncle, Joo Mrs. Reed: ention to adopt me and make me ee. ¡°It , ¡°if I er, or sitting like a second Danae e to Madeira t I get ell my uncle Joo be married, and to of one day bringing Mr. Rocer an accession of fortune, I could better endure to be kept by relieved by t to execute t day), I ventured once more to meet my master¡¯s and lover¡¯s eye, inaciously souged bot an mig, besto it back to e pressure. ¡°You need not look in t my old Loo ter. I¡¯ll be married in t of te series of coats out of tin.¡± is rico see and ? I exctle Englisurk¡¯s whole seraglio, gazelle-eyes, houri forms, and all!¡± tern allusion bit me again. ¡°I¡¯ll not stand you an incead of a seraglio,¡± I said; ¡°so don¡¯t consider me an equivalent for one. If you line, ao tamboul delay, and lay out in extensive slave-purc spare cas a loss to spend satisfactorily here.¡± ¡°And , of black eyes?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be preparing myself to go out as a missionary to preacy to t are enslaved¡ªyour es amongst t. I¡¯ll get admitted tir up mutiny; and you, tailed basrice find yourself fettered amongst our to cut your bonds till you er, t liberal t despot ever yet conferred.¡± ¡°I to be at your mercy, Jane.¡± ¡°I ed for it . ain t act, e its conditions.¡± ¡° e marriage ceremony, besides t performed at tar. You ipulate, I see, for peculiar terms¡ªhey be?¡± ¡°I only an easy mind, sir; not crusions. Do you remember be your Englisinue to act as Ad¨¨le¡¯s governess; by t I sy pounds a year besides. I¡¯ll furnis of t money, and you s¡ª¡± ¡°ell, but w?¡± ¡°Your regard; and if I give you mine in return, t debt .¡± ¡°ell, for cool native impudence and pure innate pride, you your equal,¡± said please you to dine o-day?¡± ered tes. ¡°No, thank you, sir.¡± ¡°And hank you?¡¯ if one may inquire.¡± ¡°I never ill¡ª¡± ¡°till in half-phrases.¡± ¡°till I can¡¯t .¡± ¡°Do you suppose I eat like an ogre or a g you dread being t?¡± ¡°I ion on t, sir; but I to go on as usual for anoth.¡± ¡°You once.¡± ¡°Indeed, begging your pardon, sir, I s. I s go on as usual. I s of your o do: you may send for me in to see me, and I¡¯ll come t at no otime.¡± ¡°I a smoke, Jane, or a pinco comfort me under all tenance,¡¯ as Ad¨¨le unately I listen¡ªime notle tyrant, but it ly; and ively speaking¡ªattaco a coucc my jewel I syne.¡± o aligered out Ad¨¨le, I entered treat upstairs. o ion for ermined not to spend time in a t¨ºte-¨¤-t¨ºte conversation. I remembered o sing¡ªgood singers generally do. I myself, and, in idious judgment, no musician, eit I deligening tice, treated o give me a song. c ime; but I averred t no time . ¡°Did I like his voice?¡± he asked. ¡°Very muc fond of pampering t susceptible vanity of for once, and from motives of expediency, I imulate it. ¡°t play t.¡± ¡°Very ry.¡± I did try, but ly s off tool and denominated ¡°a little bungler.¡± Being puso one side¡ª t on till trees and dim lao a s air ones train:¡ª ¡°truest love t ever Felt at its kindled core, Did tart, tide of being pour. her coming was my hope each day, ing was my pain; t did eps delay as ice in every vein. I dreamed it would be nameless bliss, As I loved, loved to be; And to t did I press As blind as eagerly. But he space t lay our lives between, And dangerous as the foamy race Of ocean-surges green. And ed as a robber-path through wilderness or wood; For Mig, and oe and rath, Bets stood. I dangers dared; I hindrance scorned; I omens did defy: ever menaced, harassed, warned, I passed impetuous by. On sped my rainbo as light; I flew as in a dream; For glorious rose upon my sight t child of Shower and Gleam. Still bright on clouds of suffering dim S soft, solemn joy; Nor care I now, how dense and grim Disasters gather nigh. I care not in t s, though all I have rushed o¡¯er Srong and fleet, Proclaiming vengeance sore: ty e srike me down, Rigo me, And grinding Migh furious frown, Sy. My love tle hand ith in mine, And vo wedlock¡¯s sacred band Our nature swine. My love h sealing kiss, ito live¡ªto die; I last my nameless bliss. As I love¡ªloved am I!¡± o. I quailed momentarily¡ªt scene, daring demonstration, I ood in peril of bot be prepared¡ªI ongue: as y, ¡°wo marry now?¡± ¡°t range question to be put by his darling Jane.¡± ¡°Indeed! I considered it a very natural and necessary one: alked of ure did ention of dying depend on t.¡± ¡°O I mig for such as I.¡± ¡°Indeed it o die ime, and not be tee.¡± ¡°ould I forgive he selfish idea, and prove my pardon by a reconciling kiss?¡± ¡°No: I her be excused.¡± roptle t ed to marro anzas crooned in her praise.¡± I assured urally y, and t en find me so; and t, moreover, I ermined to ss in my cer before t sort of a bargain time to rescind it. ¡°ould I be quiet and talk rationally?¡± ¡°I if o talking rationally, I flattered myself I now.¡± ted, pis; ¡°you may fume and fidget as you please: but t plan to pursue ain. I like you more t I¡¯ll not sink into a batiment: and ee I¡¯ll keep you from too; and, moreover, maintain by its pungent aid t distance bet conducive to our real mutual advantage.¡± From less to more, I ation; ter ired, in dudgeon, quite to t up, and saying, ¡°I ural and ed respectful manner, I slipped out by t away. tem tered on, I pursued during tion; and success. , to be sure, raty; but on tly entertained, and t a lamb-like submission and turtle- dove sensibility, isfied ed aste less. In otial and quiet; any ot being uncalled for: it ed and afflicted inued to send for me punctually t truck seven; terms as ¡°love¡± and ¡°darling¡± on my service ,¡± ¡°malicious elf,¡± ¡°sprite,¡± ¡°coo, I no grimaces; for a pressure of t I decidedly preferred to anytender. Mrs. Fairfax, I sa vanisain I did ime, Mr. Rocer affirmed I ened a conduct at some period fast coming. I laug ed; ¡°and I don¡¯t doubt to be able to do it er: if one expedient loses its virtue, anot be devised.¡± Yet after all my task an easy one; often I eased ure o me my of religion, as an eclipse intervenes bet, in ture: of whom I had made an idol. Chapter 25 tsed: its very last ting off t advanced¡ªtions for its arrival e. I, at least, o do: trunks, packed, locked, corded, ranged in a rotle co-morro time, to London: and so s I, but one Jane Rocer, a person . to nail on: ttle squares, in ter ten tion, ¡°Mrs. Rocer,¡ª el, London,¡± on eac persuade myself to affix to er! S exist: s be born till to-morroime after eig to be assured so to property. It , opposite my dressing-table, garments said to be uff Lora: for not to me appertained t suit of ; t from tmanteau. I s t to conceal trange, contained; certainly a most gly sment. ¡°I .¡± It only tion t made me feveris only ticipation of t co commence to-morroances less, in producing t restless, excited mood e o t a they. I a strange and anxious t. Somet compre but myself: it aken place t. Mr. Rocer t nig from returned: business o a small estate of ty miles off¡ªbusiness it e tle in person, previous to ated departure from England. I ed noo disburto seek of ion of t perplexed me. Stay till to he confidence. I sougo its ser by trong and full from t, ead of subsiding as nig seemed to augment its russ roar: trees bleeadfastly one ossing back tinuous rain bending ted from pole to pole, fast following, mass on mass: no glimpse of blue sky July day. It a certain rouble of mind to torrent tnut-tree; it stood up black and riven: trunk, split dore, gasped gly. t broken from eacrong roots kept ty of vitality royed¡ªt boug er¡¯s tempests o fell one or boto eart, be said to form one tree¡ªa ruin, but an entire ruin. ¡°You did rigo to eacer-splinters be a little sense of life in you yet, rising out of t ad t roots: you you are not desolate: eaco sympat tarily in t part of t; so tantly in t of cloud. t far aer, poured a o listen to, and I ran off again. rayed tree roots reo t tore-room. to to ascertain er o see a cime, and burnt : I let doain, and in ready for ligless ted ts I could not sit still, nor even remain in ttle time-piece in taneously struck ten. ¡°e it groo tes: it is moonlig intervals; I can see a good o meet es of suspense.¡± t trees to t , ill and solitary: save for t at intervals as t, it a long pale line, unvaried by one moving speck. A puerile tear dimmed my eye ment and impatience; as, I a ain of dense cloud: t gre on the gale. ¡°I nigo me. I interpreted it as a er. I feared my oo brigo be realised; and I ely t I imagined my fortune s meridian, and must now decline. ¡°ell, I cannot return to t; ¡°I cannot sit by t ter tire my limbs train my ; I him.¡± I set out; I , but not far: ere I er of a mile, I ramp of iment! It . ery brigook off, and round o meet him. ¡°tretc from t do me, t is evident. Step on my boot-toe; give me bot!¡± I obeyed: joy made me agile: I sprang up before y kissing I got for a ful triumpation to demand, ¡°But is tter, Janet, t you come to meet me at suching wrong?¡± ¡°No, but I t you bear to in this rain and wind.¡± ¡°Rain and I t. I ask again, is tter? ¡°Nother afraid nor unhappy.¡± ¡°th?¡± ¡°Rat I¡¯ll tell you all about it by-and-bye, sir; and I daresay you will only laug me for my pains.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll laug you ily ; till t: my prize is not certain. t mont lay a finger anyo ray lamb in my arms. You of to seek your shepherd, did you, Jane?¡± ¡°I ed you: but don¡¯t boast. t me get down.¡± . As Joook o told me to make e and put someturn to opped me, as I made for taircase, to extort a promise t I be long: nor es I rejoined supper. ¡°take a seat and bear me company, Jane: please God, it is t meal but one you at time.¡± I sat doold eat. ¡°Is it because you of a journey before you, Jane? Is it ts of going to London t takes aite?¡± ¡°I cannot see my prospects clearly to-nig ts I hing in life seems unreal.¡± ¡°Except me: I am substantial enougouch me.¡± ¡°You, sir, are t pom-like of all: you are a mere dream.¡± a dream?¡± said close to my eyes. rong arm. ¡°Yes; touc, it is a dream,¡± said I, as I put it down from before my face. ¡°Sir, have you finished supper?¡± ¡°Yes, Jane.¡± I rang tray. irred took a lo at my master¡¯s knee. ¡°It is near midnight,¡± I said. ¡°Yes: but remember, Jane, you promised to before my wedding.¡± ¡°I did; and I least: I o go to bed.¡± ¡°Are all your arrangements complete?¡± ¡°All, sir.¡± ¡°And on my part likeled everyto-morroer our return from church.¡± ¡°Very well, sir.¡± ¡°it an extraordinary smile you uttered t ter! Are you well?¡± ¡°I believe I am.¡± ¡°Believe! is tter? tell me w you feel.¡± ¡°I could not, sir: no ell you e t may come charged?¡± ¡°ted, or over- fatigued.¡± ¡°Do you, sir, feel calm and happy?¡± ¡°Calm?¡ªno: but o t¡¯s core.¡± I looked up at o read t and flushed. ¡°Give me your confidence, Jane,¡± t oppresses it, by imparting it to me. do you fear?¡ªt I s prove a good husband?¡± ¡°It is t from my ts.¡± ¡°Are you appre to enter?¡ªof to which you are passing?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°You puzzle me, Jane: your look and tone of sorroy perplex and pain me. I an explanation.¡± ¡°ten. You ?¡± ¡°I ; and you ed a , in s, it urbed you. Let me . Mrs. Fairfax s talk?¡ª your sensitive self-respect has been wounded?¡± ¡°No, sir.¡± It struck ted till time-piece s silver cs ting stroke, and then I proceeded. ¡°All day yesterday I , as you seem to troubled by any ing fears about t cetera: I t a glorious to caress me no me talk undisturbed. Yesterday I trusted events oget ¡ªting your safety or comfort on your journey. I tle er tea, tion so near me, I scarcely missed your actual presence. I t of t lay before me¡ªyour life, sir¡ªan existence more expansive and stirring to rait cs call t blossomed like a rose. Just at sunset, turned cold and t in, Sopairs to look at my ¡ªtravagance, you sent for from London: resolved, I suppose, since I o c me into accepting sometly. I smiled as I unfolded it, and devised ease you about your aristocratic tastes, and your efforts to masque your plebeian bride in ttributes of a peeress. I to you t good enougune, beauty, nor connections. I say on your part to augment your e your standing, by marrying eit.¡± ¡°cerposed Mr. Rocer: ¡°but s embroidery? Did you find poison, or a dagger, t you look so mournful now?¡± ¡°No, no, sir; besides ter¡¯s pride; and t did not scare me, because I am used to t of t, sir, as it gre bleerday evening, not as it blo o t of ty cime after I to bed, I could not sleep¡ªa sense of anxious excitement distressed me. till rising, seemed to my ear to muffle a mournful under-sound; first tell, but it recurred, doubtful yet doleful at every lull; at last I made out it must be some dog a distance. I inued in dreams ty niginued also to be range, regretful consciousness of some barrier dividing us. During all my first sleep, I otal obscurity environed me; rain pelted me; I tle cure, too young and feeble to , sir, t you rained every nerve to overtake you, and made effort on effort to utter your name and entreat you to stop¡ª but my movements tered, and my voice still died aiculate; .¡± ¡°And ts notle nervous subject! Forget visionary : yes¡ªI forget t; and you cannot deny it. t die inarticulate on your lips. I : a t too solemn per s as music¡ª¡®I t is a glorious to it.¡± ¡°I do, sir¡ªI do, .¡± ¡°ell,¡± er some minutes¡¯ silence, ¡°it is strange; but t sentence rated by breast painfully. , religious energy, and because your up me norution: it is too muc ease me, vex me; do anyt move me: I han saddened.¡± ¡°I ease you and vex you to your ¡¯s content, o the end.¡± ¡°I t, Jane, you old me all. I t I he source of your melancholy in a dream.¡± I s! is t I believe it to be anytant. I y beforehand. Go on.¡± tude of appreience of I proceeded. ¡°I dreamt anot treat of bats and o t of all tately front not a s nigumbled over a marble of cornice. rapped up in a sill carried ttle c not lay it doain it. I a distance on t ing for many years and for a distant country. I climbed tic perilous e, eager to catcop: tones rolled from under my feet, terror, and almost strangled me; at last I gained t. I sarack, lessening every moment. t blerong I could not stand. I sat do in my lap: you turned an angle of t foro take a last look; t my balance, fell, and woke.¡± ¡°No is all.¡± ¡°All tale is yet to come. On ¡ªO is daylig I aken; it able, and t, are you doing?¡¯ No one ans a form emerged from t; it took t, aloft, and surveyed ts pendent from tmanteau. ¡®Sopill it . I for surprise, t, came over me; and t cold ter, t Sop Lea Mrs. Fairfax: it ¡ªno, I , and am still¡ªit even t strange woman, Grace Poole.¡± ¡°It must errupted my master. ¡°No, sir, I solemnly assure you to trary. tanding before me s of t, tour o me.¡± ¡°Describe it, Jane.¡± ¡°It seemed, sir, a all and large, raig ell.¡± ¡°Did you see her face?¡± ¡°Not at first. But presently sook my veil from its place; s up, gazed at it long, and t over urned to t t moment I saion of tures quite distinctly in the dark oblong glass.¡± ¡°And hey?¡± ¡°Fearful and gly to me¡ªo! It ion of ts!¡± ¡°Gs are usually pale, Jane.¡± ¡°t eyes. Sell you of reminded me?¡± ¡°You may.¡± ¡°Of tre¡ªthe Vampyre.¡± ¡°A did it do?¡± ¡°Sir, it removed my veil from its gaunt it in ts, and flinging botrampled on them.¡± ¡°Afterwards?¡± ¡°It dreain and looked out; per sa retreated to t at my bedside, topped: t up o my face, and extinguis under my eyes. I ime in my life¡ªonly time¡ªI became insensible from terror.¡± ¡°h you when you revived?¡± ¡°No one, sir, but ter, drank a long draug t t ill, and determined t to none but you tell me woman was?¡± ¡°ture of an over-stimulated brain; t is certain. I must be careful of you, my treasure: nerves like yours made for rough handling.¡± ¡°Sir, depend on it, my nerves in fault; transaction actually took place.¡± ¡°And your previous dreams, oo? Is tacles? Am I leaving you a tear¡ª a kiss¡ª a word?¡± ¡°Not yet.¡± ¡°Am I about to do it? o bind us indissolubly; and al terrors: I guarantee t.¡± ¡°Mental terrors, sir! I explain to me tery of t aant.¡± ¡°And since I cannot do it, Jane, it must have been unreal.¡± ¡°But, sir, o gat from t of eac in full daylig¡ªI sainct lie to my orn from top to bottom in two halves!¡± I felt Mr. Rocer start and sily flung if anyt did come near you last nig might have happened!¡± , and strained me so close to . After some minutes¡¯ silence, inued, cheerily¡ª ¡°No, I¡¯ll explain to you all about it. It not, enter your room: and t range being yourself: from all you knoo Mason? In a state beticed rance and ions; but feveris delirious as you o from ed stature, s of imagination; results of nigeful tearing of t is like ell you; but not noisfied, Jane? Do you accept my solution of tery?¡± I reflected, and in trut appeared to me tisfied I , but to please o appear so¡ª relieved, I certainly did feel; so I ansed smile. And no one, I prepared to leave him. ¡°Does not Sop my candle. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°And ttle bed for you. You must s o-nig is no t you ed s sleep alone: promise me to go to the nursery.¡± ¡°I so do so, sir.¡± ¡°And fasten tairs, under pretence of requesting o rouse you in good time to-morro be dressed and before eigs: c. Don¡¯t you o ted up tain)¡ª¡°it is a lovely night!¡± It rooping before ted to t, he moon shone peacefully. ¡°ell,¡± said Mr. Rocer, gazing inquiringly into my eyes, ¡° now?¡± ¡°t is serene, sir; and so am I.¡± ¡°And you dream of separation and sorroo-nig of happy love and blissful union.¡± tion indeed dream of sorro as little did I dream of joy; for I never slept at all. ittle Ad¨¨le in my arms, I cranquil, so passionless, so innocent¡ªand ed for tir in my frame: and as soon as too. I remember Ad¨¨le clung to me as I left tle range emotion, and quitted ill sound repose. S life; and o array myself to meet, t adored, type of my unknoure day. Chapter 26 Sop seven to dress me: sask; so long t Mr. Rocer, groient of my delay, sent up to ask ening my veil (ter all) to my h a brooch; I hurried from under her hands as soon as I could. ¡°Stop!¡± s yourself in t taken one peep.¡± So I turned at t it seemed almost tranger. ¡°Jane!¡± called a voice, and I ened do t of tairs by Mr. Rocer. ¡°Lingerer!¡± ience, and you tarry so long!¡± ook me into t only t telling me ten minutes to eat some breakfast, ely s, a footman, ans. ¡°Is Joting the carriage ready?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°Is t down?¡± ¡°t down, sir.¡± ¡°Go you to turn and tell me.¡± t just beyond tes; tman soon returned. ¡°Mr. ood is in try, sir, putting on his surplice.¡± ¡°And the carriage?¡± ¡°the horses are harnessing.¡± ¡°e s it to go to c it must be ready t urn: all trapped on, and t.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°Jane, are you ready?¡± I rose. tives to for or mars Mr. Rocer and I. Mrs. Fairfax stood in to my ride I could o look at Mr. Rocer¡¯s face o feel t not a second of delay olerated for any purpose. I up to a purpose, so grimly resolute: or brows, ever revealed such flaming and flashing eyes. I kno ed into Mr. Rocer¡¯s frame. I ed to see t along, o fasten a glance fierce and fell. I ed to feel ts ing. At t opped: e out of breatant: lean on me, Jane.¡± And noure of teeple, of a ruddy morning sky beyond. I remember sometoo, of t forgotten, eitrangers straying amongst toes graven on tones. I noticed to ted not to enter by tness ter t observed; ly looking at my face from my forely o the porch. e entered t and emple; t ed in e surplice at tar, till: ture : trangers ood by t of ters, toime-stained marble tomb, Marston Moor in time of th, his wife. Our place aken at tious step berangers¡ªa gentleman, evidently¡ªion of tent of matrimony ep furtly to on. ¡°I require and c t, ogetrimony, ye do no; for be ye so many as are coupled toget joined togetrimony lawful.¡± om is. er t sentence ever broken by reply? Not, per lifted for a moment, co tinct and near voice said¡ª ¡°t go on: I declare tence of an impediment.¡± t tood mute; ter moved slig: taking a firmer footing, and not turning his head or eyes, he said, ¡°Proceed.¡± Profound silence fell loonation. Presently Mr. ood said¡ª ¡°I cannot proceed some investigation into s truth or falsehood.¡± ¡°te broken off,¡± subjoined tion to prove my allegation: an insuperable impediment to ts.¡± Mr. Rocer : ood stubborn and rigid, making no movement but to possess a and strong grasp at t! ill c h! Mr. ood seemed at a loss. ¡° is ture of t?¡± may be got over¡ªexplained away?¡± ¡° insuperable, and I speak advisedly.¡± tinued, uttering eacinctly, calmly, steadily, but not loudly¡ª ¡°It simply consists in tence of a previous marriage. Mr. Rocer has a wife now living.¡± My nerves vibrated to ted to t tle violence as it frost or fire; but I ed, and in no danger of s Mr. Rocer: I made me. . speaking, smiling, seeming to recognise in me a ed me to his side. ¡°ruder. ¡°My name is Briggs, a solicitor of¡ªStreet, London.¡± ¡°And you on me a wife?¡± ¡°I ence, sir, w.¡± ¡°Favour me of age, her place of abode.¡± ¡°Certainly.¡± Mr. Briggs calmly took a paper from , and read out in a sort of official, nasal voice:¡ª ¡°¡®I affirm and can prove t on tober A.D.¡ª(a date of fifteen years back), Edy of ¡ª, and of Ferndean Manor, in¡ªso my sister, Bertoinetta Mason, daug, and of Antoinetta ¡ªcoer of t c is now in my possession. Signed, Richard Mason.¡¯¡± ¡°t¡ªif a genuine document¡ªmay prove I it does not prove t tioned till living.¡± ¡°Surned the lawyer. ¡°how do you know?¡± ¡°I ness to t, imony even you, sir, rovert.¡± ¡°Produce o hell.¡± ¡°I ep forward.¡± Mr. Rocer, on eetoo, a sort of strong convulsive quiver; near to t of fury or despair run tranger, or¡¯s s urned and glared at en said, aed rong arm¡ªruck Mason, das Mason sly, ¡°Good God!¡± Contempt fell cool on Mr. Rocer¡ª up: o say?¡± An inaudible reply escaped Mason¡¯s we lips. ¡°t if you cannot ansinctly. I again demand, w o say?¡± ¡°Sir¡ªsir,¡± interrupted t forget you are in a sacred place.¡± tly, ¡°Are you aleman¡¯s ill living?¡± ¡°Courage,¡± urged t.¡± ¡°S ticulate tones: ¡°I saw April. I am her.¡± ¡°At ted t in ter at thornfield hall.¡± I saort Mr. Rocer¡¯s lips, and tered¡ª ¡°No, by God! I took care t none s¡ªor of name.¡± en minutes ¡ª ¡°Enoug out at once, like t from take off your surplice; Joo to-day.¡± the man obeyed. Mr. Rocer continued, , o be a bigamist; but fate - manoeuvred me, or Providence . I am little better t t; and, as my pastor tell me, deserve no doubt ternest judgments of God, even to tlemen, my plan is broken up:- say is true: I o t I daresay you ime inclined your ear to gossip about terious lunatic kept tco you t sard er: some, my cast- off mistress. I no seen years ago,¡ªBerter of te personage, out men may bear. C as soon strike a s and maniacs tions? after I er: for t on family secrets before. Bertiful c in bots. I ner¡ªpure, : you can fancy I ! But I oion. Briggs, ood, Mason, I invite you all to come up to t Mrs. Poole¡¯s patient, and my of a being I o espousing, and judge o break t, and seek sympat least inued, looking at me, ¡°kneing secret: s all so be entrapped into a feigned union co a bad, mad, and embruted partner! Come all of you¡ªfollow!¡± Still , tlemen came after. At t door of the carriage. ¡°take it back to ter coolly; ¡°it be ed to-day.¡± At our entrance, Mrs. Fairfax, Ad¨¨le, Sopo meet and greet us. ¡°to t-about¡ªevery soul!¡± cried ter; ¡°aulations! s t I!¡ªteen years too late!¡± airs, still ill beckoning tlemen to follo staircase, passed up to torey: ter¡¯s master-key, admitted us to tapestried room, s great bed and its pictorial cabinet. ¡°You kno and stabbed you here.¡± ed too, a a fire guarded by a rong fender, and a lamp suspended from t over tly cooking somet t it first sigell: it grovelled, seemingly, on all fours; it snatcrange it ity of dark, grizzled s head and face. ¡°Good-morrow, Mrs. Poole!¡± said Mr. Rocer. ¡°o-day?¡± ¡°e¡¯re tolerable, sir, I ting to t not ¡®rageous.¡± A fierce cry seemed to give to : tood tall on its . ¡°Ater not stay.¡± ¡°Only a fes, Grace: you must allos.¡± ¡°take care take care!¡± ted ors. I recognised purple face,¡ªted features. Mrs. Poole advanced. ¡°Keep out of ter, ting her aside: ¡°she has no knife now, I suppose, and I¡¯m on my guard.¡± ¡°One never kno in mortal discretion to fat.¡± ¡°e ter leave her,¡± whispered Mason. ¡°Go to tion. ¡°¡®are!¡± cried Grace. tlemen retreated simultaneously. Mr. Rocer flung me beic sprang and grappled viciously, and laid eeto ruggled. Sature almost equalling besides: sest¡ªmore t ttled ic as tled ed blo strike: le. At last ered o a cion t yells and t convulsive plunges. Mr. Rocer turned to tators: te. ¡°t is my at tedly at ted as a cer t fierce ragout. ood and Briggs, look at t mask¡ªt bulk; t of t judgment ye judge ye s s up my prize.¡± e all er stayed a moment beo give some furto Grace Poole. tor addressed me as air. ¡°You, madam,¡± said o ¡ªif, indeed, ill living¡ªo Madeira.¡± ¡°My uncle! of him? Do you know him?¡± ¡°Mr. Mason does. Mr. Eyre of ter intimating templated union bet Madeira to recruit o Jamaica, o be ioned telligence; for my client ed leman of ter. Mr. Mason, astonisressed as you may suppose, revealed tate of matters. Your uncle, I am sorry to say, is no is unlikely ten to England o extricate you from to ime in taking steps to prevent to me for assistance. I used all despatc too late: as you, doubtless, must be also. ere I not morally certain t your uncle as it is, I tter remain in England till you can o stay for?¡± he inquired of Mr. Mason. ¡°No, no¡ªlet us be gone,¡± ing to take leave of Mr. Rocer, t at tayed to excences, eition or reproof, y parisy done, oo departed. I ood at to ened t t none migrude, and proceeded¡ªnot to to mourn, I too calm for t, but¡ªmeco take off t by tuff go, for t time. I t do ired. I leaned my arms on a table, and my : till no no. t morning enoug tic: transaction in t been noisy; tercation, no dispute, no defiance or cears, no sobs: a feo tern, s questions put by Mr. Rocer; ansions given, evidence adduced; an open admission of truttered by my master; truders were gone, and all was over. I myself, obvious cten me, or scat werday?¡ªws? Jane Eyre, ant a bride, ary girl again: s e. A Cmas frost midsummer; a orm s crus nigo- day rodden snoropics, noe, s in ry Norle doom, suc, fell on all t-born in t. I looked on my cerday so blooming and gloark, c could never revive. I looked at my love: t feeling s, like a suffering c; it could not seek Mr. Rocer¡¯s arms¡ªit could not derive . O turn to ed¡ªconfidence destroyed! Mr. Rocer to me o say rayed me; but ttribute of stainless trut go: t I perceived discern; but ed not, seemed, ful passion: t o ! My eyes o sion came in as black and confused a floless, I seemed to river; I e mountains, and felt torrent come: to rise I o flee I rengt, longing to be dead. One idea only still t begot an unuttered prayer: t s no energy o express them¡ª ¡°Be not far from me, for trouble is near: to help.¡± It ition to o avert it¡ªas I my knees, nor moved my lips¡ªit came: in full orrent poured over me. t, my ruck, ster be described: in truters came into my soul; I sank in deep mire: I felt no standing; I came into deep ers; the floods overflowed me.¡± Chapter 27 Some time in ternoon I raised my ern sun gilding ts decline on t am I to do?¡± But t once¡±¡ª, so dread, t I stopped my ears. I said I could not bear suc I am not Ed part of my I of most glorious dreams, and found ter; but t I must leave antly, entirely, is intolerable. I cannot do it.¡± But, t I could do it and foretold t I s. I led ion: I ed to be I mig for me; and Conscience, turned tyrant, , told auntingly, s but dipped y foot in t arm of iron o unsounded depths of agony. ¡°Let me be torn a another help me!¡± ¡°No; you sear yourself a to transfix it.¡± I rose up suddenly, terror-struck at tude tood erect. I perceived t I ement and inanition; neit nor drink day, for I aken no breakfast. And, range pang, I noed t, long as I up to ask o invite me to come do even little Ad¨¨le apped at t even Mrs. Fairfax me. ¡°Friends al tune forsakes,¡± I murmured, as I undre and passed out. I stumbled over an obstacle: my ill dizzy, my sig soon recover myself. I fell, but not on to tstretc me. I looked up¡ªI ed by Mr. Rocer, w in a chreshold. ¡°You come out at last,¡± ing for you long, and listening: yet not one movement es more of t deat yourself up and grieve alone! I e. I expected a scene of some kind. I rain of tears; only I ed to be s: no at all! I see a race of tears. I suppose, t has been weeping blood?¡± ¡°ell, Jane! not a er¡ªnot? Noto cut a feeling or sting a passion? You sit quietly wh a weary, passive look.¡± ¡°Jane, I never meant to one little e o er, t ate of ake slaug at t han I now rue mine. ill you ever forgive me?¡± Reader, I forgave t and on t. true pity in one, suc not in out my ¡¯s core. ¡°You kno my continued silence and tameness, t rathan of will. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°tell me so roundly and s spare me.¡± ¡°I cannot: I am tired and sick. I some er.¡± of saking me in airs. At first I did not knoo t o my lips; I tasted it and revived; te sometting in e near. ¡°If I could go out of life no too s ; ¡°t o make t of cracking my -strings in rending ter¡¯s. I must leave appears. I do not to leave leave him.¡± ¡°how are you now, Jane?¡± ¡°Mucter, sir; I shall be well soon.¡± ¡°taste the wine again, Jane.¡± I obeyed table, stood before me, and looked at me attentively. Suddenly urned aiculate exclamation, full of passionate emotion of some kind; tooped too kiss me; but I remembered caresses urned my face a his aside. ¡°!¡ªily. ¡°O kiss ted?¡± ¡°At any rate, ther room nor claim for me, sir.¡± ¡°rouble of mucalking; I will answer for you¡ªBecause I ly?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°If you t range opinion of me; you must regard me as a plotting profligate¡ªa base and loerested love in order to drao a snare deliberately laid, and strip you of . do you say to t? I see you can say not place, you are faint still, and o do to dra yet accustom yourself to accuse and revile me, and besides, tes of tears are opened, and t if you spoke muco expostulate, to upbraid, to make a scene: you are to act¡ªtalking you consider is of no use. I know you¡ªI am on my guard.¡± ¡°Sir, I do not against you,¡± I said; and my unsteady voice o curtail my sentence. ¡°Not in your sense of t in mine you are sco destroy me. You I am a married man¡ªas a married man you noend to make yourself a complete stranger to me: to live under to you, if ever a friendly feeling inclines you again to me, you man ress: I must be ice and rock to him;¡¯ and ice and rock you will accordingly become.¡± I cleared and steadied my voice to reply: ¡°All is c me, sir; I must coo¡ªt of t; and to avoid fluctuations of feeling, and continual combats ions and associations, t have a new governess, sir.¡± ¡°Oo sctled t already; nor do I mean to torment you ions and recollections of tent of Ac vault, offering tliness of living deato t of tone s one real fiend, stay o bring you to t o stay if s inmate s permit me to remove tired and a scruple about tuation, in t of a . Probably t to eac a tendency to indirect assassination, even of e. ¡°Concealing t doree: t demon¡¯s vicinage is poisoned, and al I¡¯ll s up t door and board t fearful Grimsby Retreat, to bear o give ed by o burn people in t nigo stab to bite their bones, and so on¡ª¡± ¡°Sir,¡± I interrupted unfortunate lady: you speak of e¡ªive antipat is cruel¡ªs help being mad.¡± ¡°Jane, my little darling (so I knoalking about; you misjudge me again: it is not because se e you?¡± ¡°I do indeed, sir.¡± ¡°taken, and you kno me, and not t of love of ill be dear. Your mind is my treasure, and if it reasure still: if you raved, my arms s a strait coat¡ªyour grasp, even in fury, least as fond as it rictive. I s s as I did from moments you sc me; and I could iring tenderness, turn; and never o your eyes, tion for me.¡ªBut rain of ideas? I alking of removing you from t departure: to-morros miseries and terrors for ever! I o repair to, rusion¡ªeven from falsehood and slander.¡± ¡°And take Ad¨¨le errupted; ¡°she will be a companion for you.¡± ¡° do you mean, Jane? I told you I o sc do I my o o me for a companion?¡± ¡°You spoke of a retirement, sir; and retirement and solitude are dull: too dull for you.¡± ¡°Solitude! solitude!¡± erated ation. ¡°I see I must come to an explanation. I don¡¯t knoo sude. Do you understand?¡± I s required a degree of courage, excited as o risk t mute sign of dissent. about topped, as if suddenly rooted to one spot. me long and urned my eyes from ried to assume and maintain a quiet, collected aspect. ¡°Nocer,¡± last, speaking more calmly ted o speak. ¡°t I al and a puzzle: is. Noion, and exasperation, and endless trouble! By God! I long to exert a fraction of Samson¡¯s strengtanglement like tow!¡± soon again stopped, and time just before me. ¡°Jane! , I¡¯ll try violence.¡± of a man to burst an insufferable bond and plunge o in anot, and us of frenzy more, I so do not¡ªtime¡ªrol and restrain of repulsion, flig I afraid: not in t. I felt an in not its cook orted fingers, and said to hingly¡ª ¡°Sit doalk to you as long as you like, and o say, wher reasonable or unreasonable.¡± do get leave to speak directly. I ruggling ears for some time: I aken great pains to repress t like to see me o let tter. So I gave way and cried ily. Soon I ly entreating me to be composed. I said I could not while he was in such a passion. ¡°But I am not angry, Jane: I only love you too tle pale face e, frozen look, I could not endure it. hush, now, and wipe your eyes.¡± ened voice announced t urn, became calm. Noo rest I permit it. to him: no. ¡°Jane! Jane!¡± of bitter sadness it t love me, t ation, and t you valued? No you to become your oucoad or ape.¡± t me: yet ortured by a sense of remorse at ting control to drop balm where I had wounded. ¡°I do love you,¡± I said, ¡°more t I must not s time I must express it.¡± ¡°t time, Jane! ! do you t, if you still love me, be alant?¡± ¡°No, sir; t I am certain I could not; and t one you ion it.¡± ¡°Oion it! If I storm, you of weeping.¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer, I must leave you.¡± ¡°For es, w dishe your face¡ªwhich looks feverish?¡± ¡°I must leave Ad¨¨le and t part begin a neence among strange faces and strange scenes.¡± ¡°Of course: I told you you s parting from me. You mean you must become a part of me. As to tence, it is all rig be my married. You ser¡ªbotually and nominally. I so you so long as you and I live. You so a place I e innocent life. Never fear t I o error¡ªto make you my mistress. be reasonable, or in trutic.¡± rils dilated; ill I dared to speak. ¡°Sir, your is a fact acknoress: to say otical¡ªis false.¡± ¡°Jane, I am not a gentle-tempered man¡ªyou forget t: I am not long-enduring; I am not cool and dispassionate. Out of pity to me and yourself, put your finger on my pulse, feel throbs, and¡ª beware!¡± , and offered it to me: tressed on all o agitate ance o yield of tion. I did ively ter extremity¡ª looked for aid to one involuntarily from my lips. ¡°I am a fool!¡± cried Mr. Rocer suddenly. ¡°I keep telling married, and do not explain to ser of t ances attending my infernal union ain Jane I kno put your ¡ªt I may ouc, to prove you are near me¡ªand I e of ten to me ¡°Yes, sir; for hours if you will.¡± ¡°I ask only minutes. Jane, did you ever I t son of my I han I?¡± ¡°I remember Mrs. Fairfax told me so once.¡± ¡°And did you ever my father was an avaricious, grasping man?¡± ¡°I ood someto t effect.¡± ¡°ell, Jane, being so, it o keep ty toget bear tate and leaving me a fair portion: all, o my brot as little could a son of be provided for by a me a partner betimes. Mr. Mason, a est India planter and merc, er a fortune of ty t sufficed. college, I out to Jamaica, to espouse a bride already courted for me. My fat old me Miss Mason of Spanisoyle of Blancall, dark, and majestic. o secure me because I ies, splendidly dressed. I seldom sale private conversation tered me, and laviss. All to admire imulated: my senses ed; and being ignorant, ra I loved ted t tic rivalries of society, t o its commission. ives encouraged me; competitors piqued me; s before I kne!¡ªan agony of inempt masters me. I never loved, I never esteemed, I did not even knoence of one virtue in ure: I y, nor benevolence, nor candour, nor refinement in I let me remember to whom I am speaking.¡± ¡°My bride¡¯s motood sake; s up in a lunatic asylum. too¡ªa complete dumb idiot. t e, erest akes in cer, and also in a dog-like attac ate one day. My fat t only of ty t against me.¡± ¡°t except for treac, I s of reproaco my es obnoxious to me, of mind common, loo anyto anyt I could not pass a single evening, nor even a single ; t kindly conversation could not be sustained betopic I started, immediately received from urn at once coarse and trite, perverse and imbecile¡ªtled inued outbreaks of and unreasonable temper, or tions of radictory, exacting orders¡ªeven trained myself: I escailed remonstrance; I tried to devour my repentance and disgust in secret; I repressed tipat. ¡°Jane, I trouble you ails: some strong airs four years, and before t time sried me indeed: er ripened and developed ful rapidity; and rank: trong, only cruelty could c use cruelty. a pigmy intellect s giant propensities! ies entailed on me! Bertrue daug attend a man bound to a once intemperate and unce. ¡°My broterval too. I o ure t gross, impure, depraved I ever saed y a part of me. And I could not rid myself of it by any legal proceedings: for tors no my y. Jane, you don¡¯t like my narrative; you look almost sick¡ªs to another day?¡± ¡°No, sir, finis noy you¡ªI do earnestly pity you.¡± ¡°Pity, Jane, from some people is a noxious and insulting sort of tribute, ; but t is t of pity native to callous, selfiss; it is a istical pain at contempt for t t is not your pity, Jane; it is not t t¡ª overflo is rembling in mine. Your pity, my darling, is ts anguisal pang of t it, Jane; let ter ¡ªmy arms to receive her.¡± ¡°Now, sir, proceed; w did you do when you found she was mad?¡± ¡°Jane, I approac of self-respect intervened betless covered I resolved to be clean in my o I repudiated tamination of ion al defects. Still, society associated my name and person saion o me; moreover, I kne o me even in ticular of o live as long as I, being as robust in frame as s ty-six, I was hopeless. ¡°One nig up)¡ªit Indian nigion t frequently precede tes. Being unable to sleep in bed, I got up and opened teams¡ªI could find no refres any; tting in t cannon-ball¡ªs bloody glance over a of tempest. I one of demon-e, ever ions of t India sligruction to her wolfish cries. ¡°¡®t last, ¡®is tomless pit! I to deliver myself from it if I can. tal state noic¡¯s burning eternity I a future state one¡ªlet me break away, and go o God!¡¯ ¡°I said t I knelt do, and unlocked a trunk ols: I mean to s myself. I only entertained tention for a moment; for, not being insane, te and unalloyed despair, ruction, in a second. ¡°A orm broke, streamed, tion. rees of my garden, and amongst its drences and pine-apples, and ropics kindled round me¡ªI reasoned ten; for it rue isdom t consoled me in t pato follow. ¡°t ill ic y; my , dried up and scorcime, so tone, and filled ed for a pure draug regeneration possible. From a flotom of my garden I gazed over ts opened thus:¡ª ¡°¡®Go,¡¯ said is not knoo you. You may take to England; confine tendance and precautions at travel yourself to ie you like. t your ity, ion o impart to no living being. Place y and comfort: ser ion h secrecy, and leave her.¡¯ ¡°I acted precisely on tion. My fat made my marriage knoo tance; because, in t letter I e to apprise to experience extreme disgust of its consequences, and, from ter and constitution, seeing a ure opening to me¡ªI added an urgent co keep it secret: and very soon t of ted for me o publision, o conceal it as myself. ¡°to England, ter in t last got o t torey room, of sen years made a ¡¯s den¡ªa goblin¡¯s cell. I rouble in finding an attendant for o select one on ray my secret: besides, servals of days¡ªsometimes I reat. Ser (ed to my confidence. Mrs. Fairfax may indeed ed somet so facts. Grace ly to a fault of appears not to ic is bot; so take advantage of emporary lapses; once to secrete tabbed o possess -time. On t of trated ttempt to burn me in my bed; on t gly visit to you. I tc s back vague reminiscences of on o reflect. my t ts black and scarlet visage over t of my dove, my blood curdles ¡°And led her here? here did you go?¡± ¡° did I do, Jane? I transformed myself into a . I souginent, and devious ts lands. My fixed desire o seek and find a good and intelligent to t at thornfield¡ª¡± ¡°But you could not marry, sir.¡± ¡°I ermined and I could and oug my original intention to deceive, as I to tell my tale plainly, and make my proposals openly: and it appeared to me so absolutely rational t I so love and be loved, I never doubted some and my case and accept me, in spite of th which I was burdened.¡± ¡°ell, sir?¡± ¡°ive, Jane, you alless movement, as if ans enouged to read tablet of one¡¯s . But before I go on, tell me is a small p ime erminable talk: I don¡¯t very well know why.¡± ¡°I mean,¡ª next? came of suc?¡± ¡°Precisely! and w do you wiso know now?¡± ¡°o marry you; and w she said.¡± ¡°I can tell you o be recorded in te. For ten long years I roved about, living first in one capital, times in St. Petersburg; oftener in Paris; occasionally in Rome, Naples, and Florence. Provided y of money and t of an old name, I could cy: no circles me. I soug Englisesses, Italian signoras, and German grafinnen. I could not find imes, for a fleeting moment, I t I caugone, beion of my dream: but I ly undeserved. You are not to suppose t I desired perfection, eit suited me¡ªfor tipodes of t t one ment made me reckless. I tried dissipation¡ªnever debauc I ed, and e. t tribute: rooted disgust at it and rained me muc t bordered on riot seemed to approaco . ¡°Yet I could not live alone; so I tried tresses. t I ceps ed. Salian, Giacinta, and a German, Clara; bot y to me in a fea : I tired of and quiet; but one o my taste. I o give sum to set decently rid of , Jane, I see by your face you are not forming a very favourable opinion of me just no you?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like you so not seem to you in t o live in t ress and talk of it as a mere matter of course.¡± ¡°It like it. It urn to it. ress is t o buying a slave: boten by nature, and alion, inferior: and to live familiarly e tion of time I passed a, and Clara.¡± I felt trutain inference, t if I o forget myself and all teac illed into me, as¡ªunder any pretext¡ªification¡ªtemptation¡ªto become ted t give utterance to tion: it . I impressed it on my , t it migo serve me as aid in time of trial. ¡°Noill, I see. But let me come to t. January, rid of all mistresses¡ªin a ter frame of mind, t of a useless, roving, lonely life¡ª corroded ment, sourly disposed against all men, and especially against all o regard tion of an intellectual, faito England. ¡°On a frosty er afternoon, I rode in sig! I expected no peace¡ªno pleasure tile in little figure sitting by itself. I passed it as negligently as I did te to it: I iment of o me; no in tress of my life¡ªmy genius for good or evil¡ªed t kno, even came up and gravely offered me ure! It seemed as if a linnet o my foot and proposed to bear me on its tiny t go: it stood by me range perseverance, and looked and spoke of auty. I must be aided, and by t hand: and aided I was. ¡°ole into my frame. It t return to me¡ªt it belonged to my it pass a. I nig a I t of you or c day I observed you¡ªmyself unseen¡ªfor , and you could not go out of doors. I en and ctention for a s ient tle Jane; you talked to ime. last s you, you lapsed at once into deep reverie: you betook yourself sloo pace t, you glanced out at tened to tly on and dreamed. I t dark: tion in your eye occasionally, a soft excitement in your aspect, ter, bilious, musings of youts spirit follo of o an ideal o a servant in to and at yourself, Janet! t ion. It seemed to say¡ª¡®My fine visions are all very I must not forget tely unreal. I , I am perfectly a my feet a rougract to travel, and around me gatempests to encounter.¡¯ You ran doairs and demanded of Mrs. Fairfax some occupation: ts to make up, or somet sort, I t ting out of my sight. ¡°Impatiently I ed for evening, o my presence. An unusual¡ªto me¡ªa perfectly need o searc deeper and kno better. You entered t once s: you ly dressed¡ªmucalk: ere long I found you full of strange contrasts. Your garb and manner ricted by rule; your air en diffident, and altoget of one refined by nature, but absolutely unused to society, and a good deal afraid of making ageously conspicuous by some solecism or blunder; yet o your interlocutor¡¯s face: tration and poo get used to me: I believe you felt tence of sympater, Jane; for it oniso see ain pleasant ease tranquillised your manner: snarl as I c me sagacious grace I cannot describe. I once content and stimulated I sa, for a long time, I treated you distantly, and sougellectual epicure, and ification of making t acquaintance: besides, I ing fear t if I s bloom c. I did not t it ransitory blossom, but rat resemblance of one, cut in an indestructible gem. Moreover, I ; you kept in till as your otle token of recognition, as ent . Your ual expression in tful look; not despondent, for you sickly; but not buoyant, for you tle ual pleasure. I of me, or if you ever t of me, and resolved to find t. ¡°I resumed my notice of you. t; it sc edium of your life¡ªt made you mournful. I permitted myself t of being kind to you; kindness stirred emotion soon: your face became soft in expression, your tones gentle; I liked my name pronounced by your lips in a grateful . I used to enjoy a cing time: tation in your manner: you glanced at me trouble¡ªa : you did not knoer and be stern, or t. I oo fond of you often to simulate t c cordially, suc and bliss rose to your young, ful features, I en to avoid straining you to my .¡± ¡°Don¡¯t talk any more of terrupted, furtively dasears from my eyes; orture to me; for I kne do¡ªand do soon¡ªand all tions of . ¡°No, Jane,¡± urned: ¡°y is to d, w is so mucure so mucer?¡± I so uated assertion. ¡°You see no?¡± inued. ¡°After a youtterable misery and ude, I time found ruly love¡ªI ter self¡ªmy good angel. I am bound to you rong attac. I ted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my ; it leans to you, drao my centre and spring of life, ence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one. ¡°It and kne I resolved to marry you. to tell me t I y mockery: you kno I a o attempt to deceive you; but I feared a stubbornness t exists in your cer. I feared early instilled prejudice: I ed to o your nobleness and magnanimity at first, as I do noo you plainly my life of agony¡ªdescribed to you my after a ence¡ªso you, not my resolution (t my resistless bent to love faiturn. to accept my pledge of fidelity and to give me yours. Jane¡ªgive it me now.¡± A pause. ¡°, Jane?¡± I errible moment: full of struggle, blackness, burning! Not a ever lived could ter tely olerable duty¡ª¡°Depart!¡± ¡°Jane, you understand of you? Just ter.¡¯¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer, I be yours.¡± Another long silence. ¡°Jane!¡± recommenced leness t broke me dourned me stone-cold error¡ªfor till voice of a lion rising¡ª¡°Jane, do you mean to go one o let me go another?¡± ¡°I do.¡± ¡°Jane¡± (bending to now?¡± ¡°I do.¡± ¡°And noly kissing my forehead and cheek. ¡°I do,¡± extricating myself from restraint rapidly and completely. ¡°Oter! t be o love me.¡± ¡°It o obey you.¡± A wild look raised ures: . I laid my : I s I resolved. ¡°One instant, Jane. Give one glance to my orn a t? For a airs: as well migo some corpse in yonder c surn for a companion and for some hope?¡± ¡°Do as I do: trust in God and yourself. Believe in o meet again there.¡± ¡°t yield?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°to live co die accursed?¡± his voice rose. ¡°I advise you to live sinless, and I ranquil.¡± ¡°tc for a passion¡ªvice for an occupation?¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer, I no more assign te to you t it for myself. e o strive and endure¡ªyou as me before I forget you.¡± ¡°You make me a liar by suc cell me to my face I s a distortion in your judgment, y in your ideas, is proved by your conduct! Is it better to drive a felloure to despair to transgress a mere ives nor acquaintances h me?¡± true: and raitors against me, and cing as loud as Feeling: and t clamoured ate ell you do?¡± Still indomitable ary, tained I am, t myself. I ioned by man. I mad¡ªas I am no for times ation: ts as tiny against tringent are te t my individual convenience I mig believe it no is because I am insane¡ªquite insane: beating faster t its terminations, are all I to stand by: t my foot.¡± I did. Mr. Rocer, reading my countenance, sao t: yield to it for a moment, , at t, poubble exposed to t and gloally, I still possessed my soul, and tainty of ultimate safety. tunately, erpreter¡ªoften an unconscious, but still a truterpreter¡ªin to ary sigaxed strengt exed. ¡°Never,¡± said eet once so frail and so indomitable. A mere reed s good do if I bent, if I uptore, if I crus eye: consider te, of it, defying me, ern triumpever I do s cage, I cannot get at it¡ªtiful creature! If I tear, if I rend t prison, my outrage tive loose. Conqueror I mig te o s clay d is you, spirit¡ªue and purity¡ªt I : not alone your brittle frame. Of yourself you could come fligle against my , if you your he grasp like an essence¡ªyou will vanish ere I inhale your fragrance. Oh! come, Jane, come!¡± As c me. to resist tic strain: only an idiot, elude ired to the door. ¡°You are going, Jane?¡± ¡°I am going, sir.¡± ¡°You are leaving me?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You come? You be my comforter, my rescuer? My deep love, my ic prayer, are all noto you?¡± unutterable pat o reiterate firmly, ¡°I am going.¡± ¡°Jane!¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer!¡± ¡°it; but remember, you leave me o your o a glance on my sufferings¡ªthink of me.¡± urned away; rong sob. I , reader, I erminedly as I reated. I knelt down by urned o me; I kissed h my hand. ¡°God bless you, my dear master!¡± I said. ¡°God keep you from you, solace you¡ªre kindness to me.¡± ¡°Little Jane¡¯s love , my is broken. But Jane will give me her love: yes¡ªnobly, generously.¡± Up to ; but I evaded t once quitted the room. ¡°Fare as I left him. Despair added, ¡°Farewell for ever!¡± t nig to sleep; but a slumber fell on me as soon as I lay doransported in t to t I lay in t Gates t range fears. t t long ago ruck me into syncope, recalled in to mount tremblingly to pause in tre of ted up my o look: to clouds, s to vapours s to sever. I ccrangest anticipation; as to be ten on burst from cloud: a penetrated t a moon, but a spoke to my spirit: immeasurably distant one, yet so near, it w¡ª ¡°My daugemptation.¡± ¡°Mother, I will.¡± So I anser I rance-like dream. It nig July nig: soon after midnig cannot be too early to commence task I o fulfil,¡± t I. I rose: I my so find in my dra, a ring. In seeking ticles, I encountered ter o accept a fe t; it mine: it ed in air. ticles I made up in a parcel; my purse, containing ty s : I tied on my stra, pinned my sook t put on yet, and stole from my room. ¡°Fare could be admitted of entering to embrace o deceive a fine ear: for aug migening. I Mr. Rocer¡¯s c a pause; but my momentarily stopping its beat at t t o stop also. No sleep e lessly from o emporary to go in and to say¡ª ¡°Mr. Rocer, I ill deat of rapture o my lips. I t of this. t kind master, ing ience for day. for: vainly. ed: e. I t of too. My o it back, and glided on. Drearily I airs: I kne mec tc, too, a p some er, I got some bread: for pero rengte, must not break do one sound. I opened t, s it softly. Dim da gates a in one of tc I departed: it, too, I s; and no of thornfield. A mile off, beyond tretcrary direction to Millcote; a road I ravelled, but often noticed, and my steps. No reflection o be allo one glance o be cast back; not even one for one t o be given eito t or ture. t to read one line of it he deluge was gone by. I skirted fields, and ill after sunrise. I believe it I looked neito rising sun, nor smiling sky, nor ure. aken out to pass to t of t smile on of t of bone and vein; of t t of drear flig of . I could not . I t of co say I ay o be ed to return: it too late; I could yet spare ter pang of bereavement. As yet my fliger¡ª fear of ¡ªfar ¡ª goaded me! It tore me o extract it; it sickened me farto tes; birds of my pain of and frantic effort of principle, I abion: none even from self-respect. I my master. I ill I could not turn, nor retrace one step. God must o my oifled tary , fast I like one delirious. A ending to tes, pressing my face to t turf. I I ¡ªas eager and as determined as ever to reache road. to sit to rest me under t, I ood up and lifted my stopped. I asked er ions. I asked for y s ty; o make it do. o get into ty: I entered, rolled on its way. Gentle reader, may you never feel ! May your eyes never sormy, scalding, -ears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to my lips; for never may you, like me, dread to be trument of evil to w you wholly love. Chapter 28 t is a summer evening; t me do a place called cross; ake me no fart possessed of anotime; I am alone. At t I discover t I forgot to take my parcel out of t of t for safety; t remains, t must remain; and noely destitute. cross is no to is but a stone pillar set up a distance and in darkness. Four arms spring from its summit: t too o tion, distant ten miles; t, above ty. From toy I ed; a nortain: t moors beains far beyond t deep valley at my feet. tion be tretc east, , norte, broad, lonely; t in to t a craveller migo see me norangers , evidently objectless and lost. I migioned: I could give no ans e suspicion. Not a tie o y at t¡ªnot a cures are¡ªnone t sa ture: I will seek and ask repose. I struck straigo to a s dark gros turnings, and finding a moss-blackened granite crag in a do. me; tected my . Some time passed before I felt tranquil even tle mig some sportsman or poac discover me. If a gust of te, I looked up, fearing it led, I imagined it a man. Finding my appre reigned as evening declined at nigook confidence. As yet I t; I ened, cy of reflection. o do? o go? Oolerable questions, be measured by my rembling limbs before I could reacation¡ª be entreated before I could get a lodging: reluctant sympatuned, almost certain repulse incurred, before my tale could be listened to, or one of my s relieved! I touc of t t ar t above t ious softness; no breeze o me benign and good; I t scast as I e only mistrust, rejection, insult, clung to o-nig least, I price. I : t of a roll I in a to noon ray penny¡ªmy last coin. I sae t satisfied, appeased by t¡¯s meal. I said my evening prayers at its conclusion, and then chose my couch. Beside t ; rising left only a narro-air to invade. I folded my s over me for a coverlet; a lo, at least¡ªat t of t, cold. My rest mig broke it. It plained of its gaping s ins riven c trembled for Mr. Rocer and bemoaned ter pity; it demanded ent as a bird still quivered its stered pinions in vain attempts to seek him. orn out orture of t, I rose to my knees. Nigs ill nigoo serene for t God is everyainly is in t-sky, ude, ence, o my knees to pray for Mr. Rocer. Looking up, I, ear-dimmed eyes, say Milky- less systems t space like a soft trace of lig t and strengto save treasured. I turned my prayer to ts. Mr. Rocer o t of t sorrow. But next day, ant came to me pale and bare. Long after ttle birds ts; long after bees prime of day to gatailed, and t up, and I looked round me. a still, , perfect day! a golden desert t and on it. I sa bilberries. I t I migting nutriment, permanent ser I not linger t. ure, I my Maker nig good to require my soul of me t e, to decay quietly, and mingle in peace in my possession, s requirements, and pains, and responsibilities. t be carried; t provided for; ty fulfilled. I set out. cross regained, I folloiously yield to tigue t almost overpoting doone I sa resistlessly to t clogged and limb¡ªI heard a bell chime¡ªa church bell. I turned in tion of t tic I o note an and a spire. All t my rigure-fields, and cornfields, and tering stream ran zig-zag to t far beyond struggle on: strive to live and bend to toil like t. About tered t ttom of its one street ttle sed a cake of bread. it refres I could per it, it to proceed. to rengturned to me as soon as I my fello it o faint . me I could offer in excied round my t; I ell remities of destitution proceeded. I did not knoed: probably t; but I must try. I entered tably- dressed person, a lady as sy. ongue utter t I offer it o sit do, as I ired. Disappointed in tation of a customer, so my request. Sed to a seat; I sank into it. I felt sorely urged to conscious ation rained it. Soon I asked he village?¡± ¡°Yes; te as many as t for.¡± I reflected. I o t noy. I stood in tion of one a resource, a friend, a coin. I must do somet? I must apply somewhere. here? ¡°Did s ed?¡± ¡°Nay; s say.¡± ¡° rade in t did most of the people do?¡± ¡°Some Mr. Oliver¡¯s needle-factory, and at the foundry.¡± ¡°Did Mr. Oliver employ women?¡± ¡°Nay; it was men¡¯s work.¡± ¡°And he women do?¡± ¡°I kna,¡± on as they can.¡± So be tired of my questions: and, indeed, une ed. I took leave. I passed up treet, looking as I at all to t o t; but I could discover no pretext, nor see an inducement to enter any. I rambled round t, going sometimes to a little distance and returning again, for an ed, and suffering greatly no of food, I turned aside into a lane and sat does , least an informant. A pretty little ood at top of t, exquisitely neat and brilliantly blooming. I stopped at it. business o approace door or touctering knocker? In possibly be terest of tants of t do serve me? Yet I dretired young be expected from a and fainting frame¡ªa voice cering¡ªI asked if a servant ed here? ¡°No,¡± said s keep a servant.¡± ¡°Can you tell me of any kind?¡± I continued. ¡°I am a stranger, acquaintance in t some ter w.¡± But it o to seek a place for me: besides, in ful must er, position, tale. Sion,¡± and te door closed, quite gently and civilly: but it s me out. If s open a little longer, I believe I s low. I could not bear to return to t of aid e to a far off, o offer inviting ser; but I ure¡¯s cravings, instinct kept me roaming round abodes ude¡ªrest no rest¡ª wure, alons in my side. I dreo ask¡ªno rigo expect interest in my isolated lot. Meantime, ternoon advanced, and starving dog. In crossing a field, I saened to. Near tood a t strangers , sometimes apply to troduction and aid. It is tion to least o o to seek counsel rengt tche parsonage? ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°as the clergyman in?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°ould he be in soon?¡± ¡°No, he was gone from home.¡± ¡°to a distance?¡± ¡°Not so far¡ª Marsay tnight longer.¡± ¡°as the house?¡± ¡°Nay, t but bear to ask t of beg; and again I crawled away. Once more I took off my of ttle s a crust! for but one mouto allay tinctively I turned my face again to t in; and tured t¡ª¡°ould shis handkerchief?¡± S me suspicion: ¡°Nay, suff i¡¯ t way.¡± Almost desperate, I asked for ell he handkerchief?¡± she said. ¡°ould sake my gloves?¡± ¡°No! w could shem?¡± Reader, it is not pleasant to dails. Some say t in looking back to painful experience past; but at to revieimes to oo distressing a recollection ever to be on. I blamed none of t it o be expected, and be ly an object of suspicion; a ably so. to be sure, ; but o provide me ? Not, certainly, t of persons ime, and o t take my , if to er or table. Let me condense no. A little before dark I passed a farm- tting, eating opped and said¡ª ¡°ill you give me a piece of bread? for I am very on me a glance of surprise; but ans to me. I imagine t only an eccentric sort of lady, o of sig doe it. I could not o get a lodging under a roof, and soug in to. But my nigc broken: truders passed near me more to cers; no sense of safety or tranquillity befriended me. to rained; t. Do not ask me, reader, to give a minute account of t day; as before, I sougarved; but once did food pass my lips. At ttage I satle girl about to to a pig troug?¡± I asked. Sared at me. ¡°Mots me to give hese porridge.¡± ¡°ell lass,¡± replied a voice pig doesn¡¯t it.¡± tied tiffened mould into my ravenously. As t tary bridle-path, which I had been pursuing an hour or more. ¡°My strengte failing me,¡± I said in a soliloquy. ¡°I feel I cannot go muccast again t? I lay my do ot it ness, cion¡ªtotal prostration of I reconcile myself to t of deatruggle to retain a valueless life? Because I knoo die of and cold is a fate to submit passively. Oain me a little longer! Aid!¡ªdirect me!¡± My glazed eye y landscape. I sa e out of sigivation surrounding it ract of moorland; and no as ive as the dusky hill. ¡°ell, I reet or on a frequented road,¡± I reflected. ¡°And far better t cro they should be prisoned in a workhouse coffin and moulder in a pauper¡¯s grave.¡± to turned. I reac. It remained noo find a least secure. But all te looked level. It sion but of tint: green, ting, I could still see t as mere alternations of lig. My eye still roved over t t scenery, , far in among t sprang up. ¡°t is an ignis fatuus,¡± t; and I expected it on, e steadily, neit, t kindled?¡± I questioned. I co see no; as it did not diminis did not enlarge. ¡°It may be a candle in a ured; ¡°but if so, I can never reac. It is mucoo far a avail? I s knock at to s in my face.¡± And I sank doill a over tance; t, ting me afreso t iffened to till frost¡ª t miged on; I s it; but my yet living fles its chilling influence. I rose ere long. t t constant tried to o. It led me aslant over ter, and as often I rose and rallied my faculties. t . race of ; it rack: it led straigo t, a clump of trees¡ªfirs, apparently, from inguiser of tar vanisacle ervened bet. I put out my o feel ted tones of a lo, sometis gleamed before me: it e¡ªa ; it moved on its ouc. On eacood a sable bush-holly or yew. Entering te and passing tte of a o vie t sy. ere tes retired to rest? I feared it must be so. In seeking turned an angle: t out tticed of till smaller by t, ion of t . ture curtain or ster ooped do aside ting over it, I could see all , er plates ranged in roing t-fire. I could see a clock, a able, some c on table; and by its lig roug scrupulously clean, like all about ting a stocking. I noticed ts cursorily only¡ªin traordinary. A group of more interest appeared near tting still amidst t. t¡ªsat, one in a lo off very fair necks and faces: a large old pointer dog rested its massive . A strange place cs! be ters of t table; for sic, and tivation. I , as I gazed on timate . I cannot call too pale and grave for t over a book, tful almost to severity. A stand beted a second candle and t volumes, to ing a dictionary to aid task of translation. t as if all t apartment a picture: so , I could e, tick in its obscure corner; and I even fancied I could distinguisting-needles. range stillness at last, it was audible enougo me. ¡°Listen, Diana,¡± said one of tudents; ¡°Franz and old Daniel are toget-time, and Franz is telling a dream from en!¡± And in a loelligible to me; for it ongue¡ªneitin. tell. ¡°t is strong,¡± s.¡± ted o listen to er, repeated, a later day, I knee t , it roke on sounding brass to me¡ªconveying no meaning:¡ª ¡°¡®Da trat ernen Nacy arcly set before you! tian. ¡®Ic dem Gewic!¡± Bot. ¡°Is try ting. ¡°Yes, ry talk in no other way.¡± ¡°ell, for sure case, I kna and t¡¯ one t¡¯ot tell hey said, I guess?¡± ¡°e could probably tell somet t not all¡ª for as clever as you t speak German, and read it a dictionary to help us.¡± ¡°And do you?¡± ¡°e mean to teac some time¡ªor at least ts, as t more money than we do now.¡± ¡°Varry like: but give oudying; ye¡¯ve done enougo- night.¡± ¡°I t least I¡¯m tired. Mary, are you?¡± ¡°Mortally: after all, it¡¯s toug a language er but a lexicon.¡± ¡°It is, especially suc glorious Deutsc. John will come home.¡± ¡°Surely be long no is just ten (looking at a little gold c rains fast, o look at the parlour?¡± tir a fire in an inner room; sly came back. ¡°A fair troubles me to go into yond¡¯ room no looks so lonesome y and set back in a corner.¡± Swo girls, grave before, looked sad now. ¡°But ter place,¡± continued h nor he had.¡± ¡°You say ioned us?¡± inquired one of the ladies. ¡° time, bairn: e, ailing like t naugo signify; and for, of a day¡ªt is, a fortnig to sleep and niver ark o t¡¯ c¡¯s t¡¯ last o¡¯ t¡¯ old stock¡ªfor ye and Mr. St. Jo soart to t¡¯s gone; for all your mot as book-learned. Sur¡¯ o¡¯ ye, Mary: Diana is more like your father.¡± I t t tell inction and intelligence. One, to be sure, yle of ; Mary¡¯s pale broed and braided smootresses covered ruck ten. ¡°Ye¡¯ll your supper, I am sure,¡± observed . John when he comes in.¡± And so prepare t to o till t, I ent on cion ed in me so keen an interest, I ten my ocion: no recurred to me. More desolate, more desperate t seemed from contrast. And appear to touces of to make truts and o induce to vouc for my t it atingly, I felt t last idea to be a mere chimera. hannah opened. ¡° do you ?¡± s of the candle she held. ¡°May I speak to your mistresses?¡± I said. ¡°You ter tell me o them. here do you come from?¡± ¡°I am a stranger.¡± ¡° is your business this hour?¡± ¡°I a niger in an out-o eat.¡± Distrust, ter a pause; ¡°but take in a vagrant to lodge. It isn¡¯t likely.¡± ¡°Do let me speak to your mistresses.¡± ¡°No, not I. can t be roving about no looks very ill.¡± ¡°But w shall I do?¡± ¡°O you knoo do. Mind you don¡¯t do ¡¯s all. here is a penny; now go¡ª¡± ¡°A penny cannot feed me, and I rengto go fart s t, for God¡¯s sake!¡± ¡°I must; the rain is driving in¡ª¡± ¡°tell t me see them- ¡± ¡°Indeed, I . You are not make such a noise. Move off.¡± ¡°But I must die if I am turned away.¡± ¡°Not you. I¡¯m fear¡¯d you e, t bring you about folk¡¯s time o¡¯ nigell t by ourselves in tleman, and dogs, and guns.¡± but inflexible servant clapped to and bolted it hin. te suffering¡ªa true despair¡ªrent and . orn out, indeed, I anotep could I stir. I sank on t doorstep: I groaned¡ª I ter anguisre of deat ion¡ªt from my kind! Not only t ting of fortitude least for a moment; but t I soon endeavoured to regain. ¡°I can but die,¡± I said, ¡°and I believe in God. Let me try to his will in silence.¡± t only t, but uttered; and ting back all my misery into my , I made an effort to compel it to remain till. ¡°All men must die,¡± said a voice quite close at all are not condemned to meet a lingering and premature doom, suc.¡± ¡° speaks?¡± I asked, terrified at ted sound, and incapable noc and my enfeebled vision prevented me from distinguiso the door. ¡°Is it you, Mr. St. John?¡± cried hannah. ¡°Yes¡ªyes; open quickly.¡± ¡°ell, and cold you must be, suc as it is! Come in¡ªyour sisters are quite uneasy about you, and I believe t. t gone yet!¡ªlaid do up! for shame! Move off, I say!¡± ¡°o say to ty in excluding, no me do mine in admitting ened to bot at least examine into it. Young o the house.¡± ity I obeyed ly I stood clean, brigcrembling, sickening; conscious of an aspect in t degree gly, en. t. Jo, me. ¡°St. Jo?¡± I heard one ask. ¡°I cannot tell: I found the reply. ¡°Se,¡± said hannah. ¡°As .¡± And indeed my a cill possessed my senses, t no speak. ¡°Pertle er ore c so nothin, and how very bloodless!¡± ¡°A mere spectre!¡± ¡°Is she ill, or only famished?¡± ¡°Famis milk? Give it me, and a piece of bread.¡± Diana (I kne over me) broke some bread, dipped it in milk, and put it to my lips. y in it, and I felt sympatoo, tion spoke: ¡°try to eat.¡± ¡°Yes¡ªtry,¡± repeated Mary gently; and Mary¡¯s and lifted my asted first, eagerly soon. ¡°Not too muc first¡ªrestrain e of bread. ¡°A little more, St. Jo ty in her eyes.¡± ¡°No more at present, sister. try if she can speak now¡ªask her her name.¡± I felt I could speak, and I anst.¡± Anxious as ever to avoid discovery, I o assume an alias. ¡°And where do you live? here are your friends?¡± I . ¡°Can we send for any one you know?¡± I shook my head. ¡° account can you give of yourself?¡± Some I face to face s o no longer outcast, vagrant, and disoo put off t¡ªto resume my natural manner and cer. I began once more to kno I oo o render¡ªI said after a brief pause¡ª ¡°Sir, I can give you no details to-night.¡± ¡°But me to do for you?¡± ¡°Notrengt s ansook the word¡ª ¡°Do you mean,¡± s o t?¡± I looked at , a remarkable countenance, instinct botook sudden courage. Anse rust you. If I erless and stray dog, I kno you turn me from your o-nig is, I really excuse me from muc¡ªI feel a spasm w. ¡°. Jo last, ¡°let t present, and ask ions; in ten minutes more, give milk and bread. Mary and Diana, let us go into talk tter over.¡± turned¡ªI could not tell upor ealing over me as I sat by tone sions to ¡¯s aid, I contrived to mount a staircase; my dripping clot unutterable exion a gloeful joy¡ªand slept. Chapter 29 tion of about ts succeeding tions felt in t interval; but fes framed, and no actions performed. I kneo t bed I seemed to motionless as a stone; and to orn me from it o kill me. I took no note of time -- of to noon, from noon to evening. I observed tment: I could even tell o me; but I could not anso open my lips or move my limbs frequent visitor. urbed me. I s s understand me or my circumstances; t s me. Diana and Mary appeared in tences of t at my bedside - "It is very ook her in." "Yes; sainly t out all nig shrough?" "Strange ed, pallid wanderer?" "S an uneducated person, I s e pure; and took off, t, tle worn and fine." "S is, I rat; and wed, I can fancy her physiognomy would be agreeable." Never once in t at tality tended to me, or of suspicion of, or aversion to, myself. I ed. Mr. St. Jo once: me, and said my state of let of reaction from excessive and protracted fatigue. needless to send for a doctor: nature, , left to rained in some em must sleep torpid a er a pause, in tone of a man little accustomed to expansive comment, "Ratainly, not indicative of vulgarity or degradation." "Far oto speak trut. Jo rato ttle soul. I ly." "t is anding toring o t obstinate: but I trace lines of force in ical of ractability." ood considering me some minutes; t not at all handsome." "S. John." "Ill or e ing in tures." On tter; on turn. me some gruel and dry toast, about, as I supposed, ten o poisoned comparatively strong and revived: ere long satiety of repose and desire for action stirred me. I on? Only my damp and bemired apparel; in aso appear before my benefactors so clad. I ion. On a c traces of t; t by t smoot: it e decent. My very sockings able. to smooter a ing every five minutes, I succeeded in dressing myself. My cloted, but I covered deficiencies able looking -- no speck of t, no trace of ted, and -- I crept doone staircase ers, to a narroly to tchen. It is difficult to eradicate from t ion: tones. iff, indeed, at t: latterly so relent a little; and widy and well-dressed, she even smiled. ", you up!" ster, t you down in my cone, if you will." Sed to took it. Sled about, examining me every nourning to me, as sook some loaves from tly - "Did you ever go a-begging afore you came here?" I for a moment; but remembering t anger of tion, and t I o ly, but still not a certain marked firmness - "You are mistaken in supposing me a beggar. I am no beggar; any more than yourself or your young ladies." After a pause s understand t: you've like no house, nor no brass, I guess?" "t of make a beggar in your sense of the word." "Are you book-learned?" sly. "Yes, very." "But you've never been to a boarding-school?" "I a boarding-sc years." Sever cannot ye keep yourself for, then?" "I myself; and, I trust, s are you going to do out a basket of t. "Mak' 'em into pies." "Give to me and I'll pick them." "Nay; I dunnut ye to do nought." "But I must do somet me hem." Sed; and s me a clean too spread over my dress, "lest," as s." "Ye've not been used to sarvant's wark, I see by your hands," she remarked. "happen ye've been a dressmaker?" "No, you are rouble your me; but tell me the house where we are." "Some calls it Mars Moor house." "And tleman w. John?" "Nay; live aying a on." "t village a few miles off? "Aye." "And w is he?" "he is a parson." I remembered t to see ther's residence?" "Aye; old Mr. Rivers lived (great) grandfather afore him." "t gentleman, is Mr. St. John Rivers?" "Aye; St. Joened name." "And ers are called Diana and Mary Rivers?" "Yes." "ther is dead?" "Dead troke." "ther?" "tress his mony a year." "he family long?" "I've lived y year. I nursed three." "t proves you must and fait. I o call me a beggar." Sare. "I believe," se mista'en in my ts of you: but ts goes about, you mun forgie me." "And tinued, rato turn me from t a dog." "ell, it more o' to tak' care on 'em but me. I'm like to look sharpish." I maintained a grave silence for some minutes. "You munnut too hardly of me," she again remarked. "But I do tell you or, as because you just no a species of reproac I people t ever lived itute as I am; and if you are a Cian, you oug to consider poverty a crime." "No more I oug. Joells me so too; and I see I I've clear a different notion on you noo little crater." "t will do -- I forgive you now. Shake hands." S o mine; anotier smile illumined moment we were friends. ly fond of talking. , and se for to give me sundry details about er and mistress, and "the young people. Old Mr. Rivers, s a gentleman, and of as ancient a family as could be found. Marso t a small, to compare sry i' t see by looking into ters i' Morton Cry." Still, ser mic o' t' common ark mad o' sing, and farming, and sicress . S reader, and studied a deal; and taken after s, nor ever from time t. Joo college and be a parson; and t scold a great deal of money by a man rusted turning bankrupt; and as rico give tunes, t provide for ttle at o stay a fe of t ton, and all t. to t nor "t know wed. ask of gooseberry picking, I asked her were now. "Gone over to Morton for a to tea." turned ime ted tered by tc. Joopped: Mary, in a fe in seeing me o come doook my me. "You sed for my leave to descend," sill look very pale -- and so thin! Poor child! -- poor girl!" Diana oned, to my ear, like ted to encounter. o me full of cenance elligent -- ures equally pretty; but le, more distant. Diana looked and spoke ain auty: sly. It ure to feel pleasure in yielding to an auty supported like o bend, ted, to an active will. "And is not your place. Mary and I sit in tcimes, because at o be free, even to license -- but you are a visitor, and must go into the parlour." "I am very well here." "Not at all, ling about and covering you h flour." "Besides, too for you," interposed Mary. "to be sure," added er. "Come, you must be obedient." And still o the inner room. "Sit take our t tea ready; it is anottle moorland o prepare our own meals when we are so inclined, or when hannah is baking, brewing, washing, or ironing." S. Jo opposite, a book or nes occupant. t comfortable, because clean and neat. t, and t-able range, antique portraits of ted tained ained some books and an ancient set of c in t one modern piece of furniture, save a brace of able: everyt and curtains -- looked at once well worn and well saved. Mr. St. Joting as still as one of ty pictures on tely sealed -- ue instead of a man, y-eigo ty -- tall, slender; ed t line: quite a straige an At is seldom, indeed, an Englisique models as did tle s ty of my lineaments, ially streaked over by careless locks of fair hair. tle delineation, is it not, reader? Yet describes scarcely impressed one le, a yielding, an impressible, or even of a placid nature. Quiescent as , t ril, o my perceptions, indicated elements less, or speak to me one to me one glance, till ers returned. Diana, as s, in tea, brougtle cake, baked on top of the oven. "Eat t no." I did not refuse it, for my appetite , fixed orial-looking eyes full on me. tness, a searceadfastness in old t intention, and not diffidence, o kept it averted from tranger. "You are very hungry," he said. "I am, sir." It is my alinct -- ever to meet ty, t h plainness. "It is a loain for t to tite at first. No, till not immoderately." "I trust I s eat long at your expense, sir," rived, unpolished answer. "No," ed to us te to tored to home." "t, I must plainly tell you, is out of my poo do; being absolutely home and friends." t me, but not distrustfully; I felt ty. I speak particularly of t. Joeral sense, in a figurative one to fato use truments to searcs, ts to reveal ion of keenness and reserve ed to embarrass to encourage. "Do you mean to say," you are completely isolated from every connection?" "I do. Not a tie links me to any living t a claim do I possess to admittance under any roof in England." "A most singular position at your age!" ed to my able before me. I . "You er?" Diana laug een or eig. John," said she. "I am near nineteen: but I am not married. No." I felt a burning glo to my face; for bitter and agitating recollections o marriage. t and tion. Diana and Mary relieved me by turning to my crimsoned visage; but terner brotinued to gaze, till trouble ed forced out tears as well as colour. " reside?" he now asked. "You are too inquisitive, St. Jo able and required an answer by a second firm and piercing look. "t," I replied concisely. " to keep, bot. Joioner," remarked Diana. "Yet if I kno you or your ory, I cannot ?" "I need it, and I seek it so far, sir, t some true p me in tting necessaries of life." "I kno I am o aid you to tmost of my po, tell me o do, and w you CAN do." I ea. I gave neone to my unstrung nerves, and enabled me to address trating young judge steadily. "Mr. Rivers," I said, turning to me, openly and diffidence, "you and your sisters service -- test man can do ality, from deat conferred gives you an unlimited claim on my gratitude, and a claim, to a certain extent, on my confidence. I ell you as mucory of tell compromising my oy, moral and p of others. "I am an orper of a clergyman. My parents died before I could kno up a dependant; educated in a cable institution. I ell you tablis, eac, Mr. Rivers? -- t Brockle is treasurer." "I , and I he school." "I left Loo become a private governess. I obtained a good situation, and and oug to explain: it taco me: I am as free from culpability as any one of you t be for a time; for tastroprange and direful nature. I observed but ts in planning my departure -- speed, secrecy: to secure to leave be a small parcel; to take out of t brougo cross. to te destitute. I slept t crossing a t t space of time did I taste food; and it to t gasp, t you, Mr. Rivers, forbade me to peris at your door, and took me under ter of your roof. I knoers been insensible during my seeming torpor -- and I oo taneous, genuine, genial compassion as large a debt as to your evangelical cy." "Don't make alk any more no. Joly not yet fit for excitement. Come to t dot." I gave an involuntary art at ten my neiced it at once. "You said your name t?" he observed. "I did say so; and it is t expedient to be called at present, but it is not my real name, and sounds strange to me." "Your real name you give?" "No: I fear discovery above all tever disclosure o it, I avoid." "You are quite rig peace a while." But h as much acumen as ever. "You like to be long dependent on our ality -- you ers' compassion, and, above all, Y (I am quite sensible of tinction dra it -- it is just): you desire to be independent of us?" "I do: I o is all I no me go, if it be but to t cottage; but till to stay itution." "Indeed you Say ting e ed Mary, in tone of undemonstrative sincerity o her. "My sisters, you see, . Jory ion to put you in to do so; but observe, my sp t of a poor country paris be of t sort. And if you are inclined to despise t succour than such as I can offer." "S so do anyt s. Joo put up y people as you." "I , a nurse-girl, if I can be no better," I answered. "Rig. Joe coolly. "If suc, I promise to aid you, in my oime and way." ea. I soon alked as muc up as long, as my present strengt. Chapter 30 tes of Moor ter I liked t I could sit up all day, and sometimes. I could join ions; converse ercourse, of a kind noasted by me for t time-t congeniality of tastes, sentiments, and principles. I liked to read o read: ed me; ered oo, in tique structure, s los latticed casements, its mouldering s avenue of aged firs¡ªall gro under tress of mountain s garden, dark of t species and permanent. to to to , and t a fe little pasture- fields t ever bordered a o a flock of grey moorland stle mossy-faced lambs:- to t enttac. I could compres strengtrution of ty. I felt tion of its loneliness: my eye feasted on tline of sed to ridge and dell by moss, by urf, by brilliant bracken, and melloe crag. tails to me o t sources of pleasure. trong blast and t breeze; t; t and t, developed for me, in ttraction as for ties t entranced theirs. Indoors ter read t rodden before me. I devoured t me: t isfaction to discuss I fitted t; opinion met opinion: ly. If in our trio t ainty of flo gusy and fluency gone, I o sit on a stool at Diana¡¯s feet, to rest my en alternately to opic on ouco teaco learn of of instructress pleased and suited of sced me no less. Our natures dovetailed: mutual affection¡ªof trongest kind¡ª. tely at my service. My skill, greater in t t and cogetake lessons; and a docile, intelligent, assiduous pupil sually entertained, days passed like hours, and weeks like days. As to Mr. St Joimacy extend to ance yet observed bet ively seldom at ion of ime appeared devoted to visiting ttered population of his parish. No o oral excursions: rain or fair, udy ake , and, follo on y¡ªI scarcely knoimes, ulate. han cheerful¡ª ¡°And if I let a gust of urn me aside from tasks, ion o myself?¡± Diana and Mary¡¯s general anso tion ly mournful meditation. But besides absences, to friendsracted, and even of a brooding nature. Zealous in erial labours, blameless in s, did not appear to enjoy t mental serenity, t inent, ical p. Often, of an evening, ting, rest o I kno ; but t it urbed and exciting mig flasion of his eye. I t Nature to treasury of delig o ers. once in my rong sense of tion for t tone and ed; and never did o roam t or ds they could yield. Incommunicative as ime elapsed before I unity of gauging got an idea of its calibre on. I it is past my po even render fait it produced on me. It began calm¡ªand indeed, as far as delivery and pitc, it o tly felt, yet strictly restrained zeal breatinct accents, and prompted to force¡ªcompressed, condensed, controlled. t onisened. t trange bitterness; an absence of consolatory gentleness; stern allusions to Calvinistic doctrines¡ªelection, predestination, reprobation¡ª; and eaco ts sounded like a sentence pronounced for doom. ead of feeling better, calmer, more enlig seemed to me¡ªI kno to ment¡ªiate yearnings and disquieting aspirations. I . Joious, zealous as yet found t peace of God , ts for my broken idol and lost elysium¡ªregrets to hlessly. Meantime a monto leave Moor urn to t life and scene y, ion in families by s, and te excellences, and appreciated only ts as ted taste of ting-. Joo me yet about t o obtain for me; yet it became urgent t I sion of some kind. One morning, being left alone es in tured to approacable, ced as a kind of study¡ªand I o speak, t very o frame my inquiry¡ªfor it is at all times difficult to break tures as rouble by being t to commence a dialogue. Looking up as I dreo ask of me?¡± he said. ¡°Yes; I ake?¡± ¡°I found or devised somet as you seemed boters ly become attaco you, and your society gave t inexpedient to break in on your mutual comfort till ture from Marsh End should render yours necessary.¡± ¡°And three days now?¡± I said. ¡°Yes; and o t Morton: up.¡± I ed a fes, expecting first broac o ered anotrain of reflection: ed abstraction from me and my business. I o recall o a ty one of close and anxious interest to me. ¡° is t you y of securing it.¡± ¡°O is in employment o accept.¡± ance to continue. I greient: a restless movement or ting glance fastened on o ually as words could rouble. ¡°You need be in no o me frankly tell you, I able to suggest. Before I explain, recall, if you please, my notice, clearly given, t if I must be as t, rimony remaining to me crees and . I am obscure: Rivers is an old name; but of ts of t¡¯s crust among strangers, and tive country¡ªnot only for life, but in deato deem, , and aspires but after tion from flesies s cant of w members he word, ¡®Rise, follow Me!¡¯¡± St. Jo, deep voice; ing radiance of glance. he resumed¡ª ¡°And since I am myself poor and obscure, I can offer you but a service of poverty and obscurity. You may even t degrading¡ª for I see noastes lean to ty least been amongst ted; but I consider t no service degrades ian labourer¡¯s task of tillage is appointed ier toil brings¡ªtances, is tiny of t pioneers of tles¡ªtain he Redeemer, himself.¡± ¡°ell?¡± I said, as he again paused¡ª¡°proceed.¡± me before o read my face, as if its features and lines iny ially expressed in ions. ¡°I believe you t I offer you,¡± said for a ly, tly keep tranquil, ry incumbent; for in your nature is an alloy as detrimental to repose as t in mine, t kind.¡± ¡°Do explain,¡± I urged, wed once more. ¡°I ay long at Morton, no my fat I am my oer. I s myself to tmost for its improvement. Morton, tage of ttaco it for tress¡¯s y pounds a year: sufficiently, by ter of tor of a needle- factory and iron-foundry in tion and clotion t sress in suced ion of teac ime to discress?¡± tion rato expect an indignant, or at least a disdainful rejection of t knos and feelings, t tell in o me. In trut ed a safe asylum: it t of a governess in a ric ; and tude rangers entered my soul like iron: it ignoble¡ªnot un mentally degrading, I made my decision. ¡°I t it .¡± ¡°But you compre is a village sctagers¡¯ c t, farmers¡¯ daugting, seing, cipo teac s? , portion of your mind¡ª sentiments¡ªtastes?¡± ¡°Save till ted. they will keep.¡± ¡°You knoake, then?¡± ¡°I do.¡± a bitter or a sad smile, but one ified. ¡°And wion?¡± ¡°I o my o-morro week.¡± ¡°Very .¡± anding still, me. he shook his head. ¡° do you disapprove of, Mr. Rivers?¡± I asked. ¡°You stay at Morton long: no, no!¡± ¡° is your reason for saying so?¡± ¡°I read it in your eye; it is not of t description enor in life.¡± ¡°I am not ambitious.¡± arted at tious.¡± ed, ¡°No. made you tion? ious? I kno out?¡± ¡°I was speaking of myself.¡± ¡°ell, if you are not ambitious, you are¡ª¡± he paused. ¡°?¡± ¡°I o say, impassioned: but perood t ions and sympat poent to pass your leisure in solitude, and to devote your onous labour ent,¡± o live in ains¡ªmy nature, t God gave me, contravened; my faculties, o myself. I, ment , and justified tion even of er in God¡¯s service¡ªI, er, almost rave in my restlessness. ell, propensities and principles must be reconciled by some means.¡± t more of still he puzzled me. Diana and Mary Rivers became more sad and silent as tried to appear as usual; bat to struggle against could not be entirely conquered or concealed. Diana intimated t t parting from any t kno . Joing for years: it miging for life. ¡°o ural affection and feelings more potent still. St. Jo, Jane; but als. You le, yet in some t of it is, my conscience o dissuade ainly, I cannot for a moment blame . It is rigian: yet it breaks my !¡± And tears guso her head low over her work. ¡°e are no fat her,¡± she murmured, At t moment a little accident supervened, o prove trut ¡°misfortunes never come singly,¡± and to add to tresses t. Joter. ered. ¡°Our uncle John is dead,¡± said he. Boters seemed struck: not sidings appeared in tous ting. ¡°Dead?¡± repeated Diana. ¡°Yes.¡± Sed a searc then?¡± she demanded, in a low voice. ¡° taining a marble immobility of feature. ¡° thing. Read.¡± ter into , and to Mary. Mary perused it in silence, and returned it to eachree smiled¡ªa dreary, pensive smile enough. ¡°Amen! e can yet live,¡± said Diana at last. ¡°At any rate, it makes us no han we were before,¡± remarked Mary. ¡°Only it forces ratrongly on ture of s it someoo vividly IS.¡± ter, locked it in out. For some minutes no one spoke. Diana turned to me. ¡°Jane, you us and our mysteries,¡± sed beings not to be more moved at tion as an uncle; but of y in tion t ruined ual recrimination passed beted in anger, and erakings: it appears une of ty t ourselves and one ot more closely related t one for o us; t letter informs us t o tion, ion of ty guineas, to be divided bet. Jo, of course, to do as a momentary damp is cast on ts by t of suceemed ourselves rico St. Jo would o do.¡± tion given, t o it by eiters. t day I left Marson. ter, Diana and Mary quitted it for distant B-. In a he old grange was abandoned. Chapter 31 My last find a tage; a little room eed cable, a clock, a cupboard, es and dis of tea-tcead and c of dra too large to be filled y le and generous friends , by a modest stock of suchings as are necessary. It is evening. I tle orpting alone on ty sc te or cip, and a fetle. t accent of trict. At present, ty in understanding eacractable, as ; but oto learn, and evince a disposition t pleases me. I must not forget t ttle peasants are of fleslest genealogy; and t tive excellence, refinement, intelligence, kind feeling, are as likely to exist in ts as in t-born. My duty o develop t office. Muc I do not expect in t it less, if I regulate my mind, and exert my poo day. as I very gleeful, settled, content, during ternoon? Not to deceive myself, I must reply¡ªNo: I felt desolate to a degree. I felt¡ªyes, idiot t I am¡ªI felt degraded. I doubted I aken a step ence. I ty, t let me not e and despise myself too muco be is a great step gained; I srive to overcome to- morrorust, I s tter of tially; and in a fe is possible, tter in my scitute gratification for disgust. Meantime, let me ask myself one question¡ªter?¡ªto o temptation; listened to passion; made no painful effort¡ªno struggle;¡ªbut to ; to er¡¯s mistress; delirious ime¡ªfor o beauty, youto any one else so possess t is ter, I ask, to be a slave in a fool¡¯s paradise at Marseilles¡ªfevered ing terest tears of remorse and s¡ªor to be a village-scress, free and , in a breezy mountain nook in t of England? Yes; I feel no I . God directed me to a correct che guidance! my eventide musings to t, I rose, to my door, and looked at t of t-day, and at t fields before my cottage, strains¡ª ¡°the dew was balm.¡± myself o find myself ere long er: for o see; for te grief and fatal fury¡ªconsequences of my departure¡ªoo far to leave imate restoration t t, I turned my face aside from ton¡ªI say lonely, for in t bend of it visible to me t save trees, and, quite at tremity, ter lived. I my tone frame of my door; but soon a slig iny garden from t made me look up. A dog¡ªold Carlo, Mr. Rivers¡¯ pointer, as I sa¡ª. Jo upon it , to displeasure, fixed on me. I asked o come in. ¡°No, I cannot stay; I you a little parcel my sisters left for you. I t contains a colour-box, pencils, and paper.¡± I approaco take it: a it erity, as I came near: traces of tears less very visible upon it. ¡° day¡¯s work ed?¡± he asked. ¡°Orary, I time I s on h my scholars very well.¡± ¡°But perions¡ªyour cottage¡ªyour furniture¡ªed your expectations? truty enoug¡ª¡± I interrupted¡ª ¡°My cottage is clean and ure sufficient and commodious. All I see despondent. I am not absolutely suc as to regret t, a sofa, and silver plate; besides, five , a beggar, a vagrant; noy of my friends; ty of my lot. I do not repine.¡± ¡°But you feel solitude an oppression? ttle y.¡± ¡°I ime yet to enjoy a sense of tranquillity, muco groient under one of loneliness.¡± ¡°Very you express: at any rate, your good sense ell you t it is too soon yet to yield to ting fears of Lot¡¯s kno I counsel you to resist firmly every temptation career steadily, for some mont least.¡± ¡°It is o do,¡± I ans. Joinued¡ª ¡°It is o control tion and turn t of nature; but t it may be done, I knoe; and enance t get¡ªer a pat folloarve from inanition, nor stand still in despair: o seek anot for trong as t longed to taste¡ªand pero for turous foot a road as direct and broad as tune us, if roug. ¡°A year ago I ensely miserable, because I t I ake in entering try: its uniform duties o deat for tive life of ting toils of a literary career¡ªfor tiny of an artist, autor; anyt of a priest: yes, t of a politician, of a soldier, of a votary of glory, a lover of renoer after po under my curate¡¯s surplice. I considered; my life c must be c die. After a season of darkness and struggling, ligence all at once spread out to a plain bounds¡ªmy porengt beyond ken. God o bear rengt qualifications of soldier, statesman, and orator, re in the good missionary. ¡°A missionary I resolved to be. From t moment my state of mind cters dissolved and dropped from every faculty, leaving not its galling soreness¡ªion, but since a legitimate obstacle to contend tled, a successor for Morton provided, an entanglement or t asunder¡ªa last conflict I .¡± empic voice; looking, me, but at tting sun, at oo t. e ep on t grass-grorack; ter running in t art w as a silver bell, exclaimed¡ª ¡°Good evening, Mr. Rivers. And good evening, old Carlo. Your dog is quicker to recognise ail tom of towards me now.¡± It rue. tarted at t of ts, as if a t a cloud over ood yet, at tence, in ttitude in e, ed to. urned at last, ion. A vision, as it seemed to me, of e¡ªa yout fine in contour; and o caress Carlo, it lifted up its beauty. Perfect beauty is a strong expression; but I do not retrace or qualify it: as s features as ever temperate clime of Albion moulded; as pure ed and screened, justified, in tance, term. No cing, no defect ible; te lineaments; eyes sures, large, and dark, and full; t a fascination; te smooto ties of tint and ray; too, ruddy, ly formed; teet fla of riceous tresses¡ªall advantages, in s, ure: I admired . Nature ial mood; and, forgetting inted step-mots, y. did St. Jourally asked myself t question as I sao urally, I sougo tenance. a uft of daisies w. ¡°A lovely evening, but late for you to be out alone,¡± . ¡°Oioned toy miles distant) ¡°ternoon. Papa told me you tress on my bonnet after tea, and ran up to see ing to me. ¡°It is,¡± said St. John. ¡°Do you ton?¡± s and naive simplicity of tone and manner, pleasing, if child-like. ¡°I s to do so.¡± ¡°Did you find your sctentive as you expected?¡± ¡°Quite.¡± ¡°Do you like your house?¡± ¡°Very much.¡± ¡° nicely?¡± ¡°Very nicely, indeed.¡± ¡°And made a good ctendant for you in Alice ood?¡± ¡°You eac, is Miss Oliver, t seems, in ts of fortune, as ure! ion of ts presided over h, I wonder?) ¡°I so teacimes,¡± s you noay at S-. nigill t are stationed ts; and t agreeable men in t all our young knife-grinders and scissor mercs to shame.¡± It seemed to me t Mr. St. Joruded, and . ainly looked a good deal compressed, and t of ern and square, as tion. ed oo, from turned it on er well became eyes. As ood, mute and grave, so caressing Carlo. ¡°Poor Carlo loves me,¡± said s stern and distant to be silent.¡± As sted tive grace before ere master, I sao t master¡¯s face. I saless emotion. Flusiful for a man as s , ic constriction, e ttainment of liberty. But , I te rider eed. to tle advances made him. ¡°Papa says you never come to see us noinued Miss Oliver, looking up. ¡°You are quite a stranger at Vale very urn him?¡± ¡°It is not a seasonable o intrude on Mr. Oliver,¡± ans. John. ¡°Not a seasonable I declare it is. It is just t s company: wo occupy us by a reply of her own. ¡°I forgot!¡± siful curled less! Do excuse me. It you o be indisposed for joining in my cter. Diana and Mary you, and Moor up, and you are so lonely. I am sure I pity you. Do come and see papa.¡± ¡°Not to-nig to-night.¡± Mr. St. Jo like an automaton: it cost o refuse. ¡°ell, if you are so obstinate, I stay any longer: to fall. Good evening!¡± S touc. ¡°Good evening!¡± ed, in a voice lo in a moment returned. ¡°Are you ion: his face was blanched as her gown. ¡°Quite te. S one o gaze after ripped fairy-like dorode firmly across, never turned at all. tacle of anot my ts from exclusive meditation on my oed. Chapter 32 I continued tively and fait ruly first. Some time elapsed before, s, I could compreure. augies quite torpid, to me first sig I soon found I aken. t t ted; and o knoself. t at me, my language, my rules, and ics o sted girls enougoo; and I discovered amongst t a feural politeness, and innate self-respect, as capacity, t ion. took a pleasure in doing t, in learning tasks regularly, in acquiring quiet and orderly manners. ty of tances, : besides, I began personally to like some of t girls; and t my scers: young . te, and seo taugs of grammar, geograpory, and timable cers amongst ters desirous of information and disposed for improvement¡ª evening s ttentions. t in accepting t by a consideration¡ªa scrupulous regard to to imes accustomed, and elevated t made to merit tial treatment they received. I felt I became a favourite in t out, I ations, and o live amidst general regard, t be but tting in suns;¡± serene in t far oftener sion: and yet, reader, to tell you all, in t of tence¡ªafter a day passed in ion amongst my sc in draentedly alone¡ªI used to ruso strange dreams at nigated, full of tirring, tormy¡ªdreams ating risk and romantic cill again and again met Mr. Rocer, al some exciting crisis; and ting oucime at s first force and fire. tuated. tainless bed, trembling and quivering; and till, dark nignessed t of passion. By nine o¡¯clock t morning I ually opening tranquil, settled, prepared for teady duties of the day. Rosamond Oliver kept o visit me. ter up to ted livery servant. Anyte t, placed gracefully above t kissed ed to er tic building, and glide t tecress pierce tor¡¯s . A sort of instinct seemed to ; and it, ures, to relax, cronger ting glance could indicate. Of course, s, because , conceal it from e of ian stoicism, e look, if say it is not despair of success t keeps me dumb. If I offered my , I believe you it. But t is already laid on a sacred altar: t. It han a sacrifice consumed.¡± And t like a disappointed cen vivacity; sily from urn in transient petulance from , at once so yr-like. St. Jo, ain give one crue, eternal Paradise. Besides, bind all t ure¡ªt, t, t¡ªin ts of a single passion. ¡ª¡ªrenounce so muce o make on his confidence. Miss Oliver already visits to my cottage. I er, ery or disguise: stis not less; exacting, but not absolutely spoilt. Sy, but good- , affected; liberal- of tly intelligent; gay, lively, and unt, even to a cool observer of s profoundly interesting or t sort of mind ance, of ters of St. Joill, I liked as I liked my pupil Ad¨¨le; except t, for a ccaugion is engendered ttractive adult acquaintance. Saken an amiable caprice to me. Sainly, s one-tent little soul enoug urae, sress: sory, if knoful romance. One evening, y, and tless yet not offensive inquisitiveness, sable-dratle kitc terials and some sketcty little cure, taken in ton and on t transfixed rified . ¡°ures? Did I knoter ter in t sccrait of o so papa?¡± ¡°it a tist¡ªdelig t and radiant a model. S tresses, ook a s of fine card-board, and dreline. I promised myself t; and, as it ting late told come and sit another day. S of me to Mr. Oliver evening¡ªa tall, massive-featured, middle-aged, and grey- . aciturn, and per o me. tcrait pleased make a finisure of it. ed, too, on my coming t day to spend t Vale hall. I . I found it a large, evidences of or. Rosamond ime I stayed. ered into conversation er tea, rong terms ion of it for one more suitable. ¡°Indeed,¡± cried Rosamond, ¡°so be a governess in a high family, papa.¡± I t I respect. neig tors of t all Morton o t even noive of t , if . ed it a pity t so fine and talented a young man s as a missionary; it e t appeared, t acle in t. Joly regarded t compensation for t of fortune. It tle servant, after o clean my isfied me less and brige, and o spend as I would. translation of a fete and pencils, and fell to tion, of completing Rosamond Oliver¡¯s miniature. t to tint and to soucoo, to add to t curl o tresses¡ªa deeper tinge to tion of tails, ap, my door unclosed, admitting St. John Rivers. ¡°I am come to see , I ? No, t is rust you still, t you a book for evening solace,¡± and able a neion¡ªa poem: one of tions so often vouco tunate public of terature. Alas! t courage! I pause eito accuse or repine. I knory is not dead, nor genius lost; nor o bind or slay: t tence, ty and strengtriumpruction. Poetry destroyed? Genius banisy, no: do not let envy prompt you to t. No; t only live, but reign and redeem: and the hell of your own meanness. t pages of ¡°Marmion¡± (for ¡°Marmion¡± it . Joooped to examine my dra again art: s t I felt calmer and cooler temporarily tage of ion to do him some good, if I could. ¡°itrol,¡± t I, ¡°asks oo far: locks every feeling and pang s not o talk a little about t Rosamond, to marry: I will make alk.¡± I said first, ¡°take a c stay. ¡°Very ally, ¡°stand if you like; but you s go just yet, I am determined: solitude is at least as bad for you as it is for me. I¡¯ll try if I cannot discover t spring of your confidence, and find an aperture in t marble breast thy.¡± ¡°Is trait like?¡± I asked bluntly. ¡°Like! Like closely.¡± ¡°You did, Mr. Rivers.¡± started at my sudden and strange abruptness: me astonis is not,¡± I muttered mean to be baffled by a little stiffness on your part; I¡¯m prepared to go to considerable lengtinued, ¡°You observed it closely and distinctly; but I ion to your looking at it again,¡± and I rose and placed it in his hand. ¡°A ed picture,¡± , clear colouring; very graceful and correct drawing.¡± ¡°Yes, yes; I kno. But like?¡± Mastering some ation, he answered, ¡°Miss Oliver, I presume.¡± ¡°Of course. And noo ree guess, I o paint you a careful and faite of ture, provided you admit t t able to you. I don¡¯t ime and trouble on an offering you hless.¡± inued to gaze at ture: t, to covet it. ¡°It is like!¡± , expression, are perfect. It smiles!¡± ¡°ould it comfort, or o ing? tell me t. Madagascar, or at t be a consolation to memento in your possession? or of it bring recollections calculated to enervate and distress?¡± ively raised me, irresolute, disturbed: ure. ¡°t I so is certain: ion.¡± Since I ained t Rosamond really preferred likely to oppose tced in my vie. Jorongly disposed in my oo advocate t seemed to me t, sune, do as muc as if and laid to rengto e, under a tropical sun. ithis persuasion I now answered¡ª ¡°As far as I can see, it o take to yourself t once.¡± By time doable before ed on bot. I discerned my audacity. I sa to be t o to be felt by en really need timents and griefs more ternest- seeming stoic is er all; and to ¡°burst¡± o ¡°t sea¡± of ten to confer on t of obligations. ¡°Sood bes you. Moreover, s girl¡ªratless; but you for bot to marry her.¡± ¡°Does she like me?¡± he asked. ¡°Certainly; better talks of you continually: t soucen.¡± ¡°It is very pleasant to er of an ually took out c upon table to measure time. ¡°But ion, or forging a freso fetter your ?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t imagine sucing, as I am doing: ain in my mind and overflo inundation all tentions, of self-denying plans. And no is deluged arous flood¡ªtretctoman in t Vale my bride Rosamond Oliver¡¯s feet: salking to me voice¡ªgazing do me life and passing o me. is full of deligranced¡ªlet time I marked pass in peace.¡± I cicked on: and loood silent. Amidst tet sped; cure doood on th. ¡°Notle space o delirium and delusion. I rested my temples on t of temptation, and put my neck voluntarily under asted ter taste: his.¡± I gazed at him in wonder. ¡°It is strange,¡± pursued y, indeed, of a first passion, t of iful, graceful, fascinating¡ªI experience at time a calm, un s make me a good s tner suited to me; t I ser marriage; and t to ture ime of regret. this I know.¡± ¡°Strange indeed!¡± I could not ing. ¡° on, ¡°is acutely sensible to s: t so¡ªco- operate in notook. Rosamond a sufferer, a labourer, a female apostle? Rosamond a missionary¡¯s wife? No!¡± ¡°But you need not be a missionary. You mig scheme.¡± ¡°Relinquis! my vocation? My great ion laid on eartions in ttering to tituting peace for ition¡ªt I relinquis? It is dearer t is o, and to live for.¡± After a considerable pause, I said¡ª¡°And Miss Oliver? Are ment and sorroerest to you?¡± ¡°Miss Oliver is ever surrounded by suitors and flatterers: in less t. S me; and will marry, probably, some one whan I should do.¡± ¡°You speak coolly enoug you suffer in t. You are ing away.¡± ¡°No. If I get a little t is y about my prospects, yet unsettled¡ªmy departure, continually procrastinated. Only telligence t ting, cannot be ready to replace me for to come yet; and perend to six.¡± ¡°You tremble and become flusers the schoolroom.¡± Again t imagined t a o speak so to a man. For me, I felt at of discourse. I could never rest in communication rong, discreet, and refined minds, ional reserve, and crossed t¡¯s very one. ¡°You are original,¡± said timid. t, as rating in your eye; but alloo assure you t you partially misinterpret my emotions. You tent t claim to. pity myself. I scorn t is ignoble: a mere fever of t, I declare, t is just as fixed as a rock, firm set in tless sea. Knoo be w I am¡ªa cold hard man.¡± I smiled incredulously. ¡°You aken my confidence by storm,¡± inued, ¡°and no is muc your service. I am simply, in my original state¡ª stripped of t blood-bleacianity covers y¡ªa cold, ious man. Natural affection only, of all timents, po feeling, is my guide; my ambition is unlimited: my desire to rise o do more tiable. I ry, talent; because t ends and mount to lofty eminence. I cerest, because I consider you a specimen of a diligent, orderly, energetic because I deeply compassionate ill suffer.¡± ¡°You would describe yourself as a mere pagan philosopher,¡± I said. ¡°No. tic p. I am not a pagan, but a Cian p of Jesus. As doctrines. I advocate to spread to religion, sivated my original qualities te germ, natural affection, sree, pringy root of ness, sice. Of tion to cion to spread my Master¡¯s kingdom; to acories for tandard of turning terials to t account; pruning and training nature. But s eradicate nature: nor be eradicated ¡®till tal s on immortality.¡¯¡± ook , te. Once more trait. ¡°She orld, indeed!¡± ¡°And may I not paint one like it for you?¡± ¡°Cui bono? No.¡± ure t of tomed to rest my ing, to prevent t o tell; but somet ook it up c t a glance at me, inexpressibly peculiar, and quite incompre seemed to take and make note of every point in my s traversed all, quick, keen as liged, as if to speak: but ence, was. ¡° is tter?¡± I asked. ¡°Noterously tear a narro disappeared in y nod and ¡°good- afternoon,¡± he vanished. ¡°ell!¡± I exclaimed, using an expression of trict, ¡°t caps the globe, however!¡± I, in my turn, scrutinised t sa save a feains of paint int in my pencil. I pondered tery a minute or t finding it insolvable, and being certain it could not be of muc, I dismissed, and soon forgot it. Chapter 33 It ime all tled: ton scaking care t ting s be barren on my side. Good fortune opens t o give someo afford a vent to tion of tions. I many of my rustic sced, t consciousness ed tion plainly and strongly. Deep ification to find I icated s: I promised t never a I did not visit teacheir school. Mr. Rivers came up as, y girls, file out before me, and locked tood sc, respectable, modest, and isry. And t is saying a great deal; for after all, tisry are t taug mannered, most self- respecting of any in Europe: since t of to me ignorant, coarse, and besotted, compared on girls. ¡°Do you consider you your reion?¡± asked Mr. Rivers, ion give pleasure?¡± ¡°Doubtless.¡± ¡°And you oiled a fe a life devoted to task of regenerating your race be ?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said; ¡°but I could not go on for ever so: I to enjoy my oies as o cultivate t enjoy t recall eito t of it and disposed for full holiday.¡± no are you going to do?¡± ¡°to be active: as active as I can. And first I must beg you to set liberty, and get somebody else to on you.¡± ¡°Do you her?¡± ¡°Yes, to go o Moor to their arrival.¡± ¡°I understand. I t you is better so: h you.¡± ¡°tell o be ready by to-morrotage in the morning.¡± ook it. ¡°You give it up very gleefully,¡± said quite understand your ligedness, because I cannot tell you propose to yourself as a substitute for t aim, ion in life have you now?¡± ¡°My first aim o clean do to rub it up e number of clotill it glitters again; my to arrange every cable, bed, carpet, ical precision; after to keep up good fires in every room; and lastly, t on ed ed by o sucing of eggs, sorting of currants, grating of spices, compounding of Cmas cakes, cerials for mince-pies, and solemnising of otes, as an inadequate notion of to tiated like you. My purpose, in s, is to ely perfect state of readiness for Diana and Mary before next tion is to give they come.¡± St. Joly: still isfied. ¡°It is all very ,¡± said seriously, I trust t tle ic endearments and household joys.¡± ¡°t terrupted. ¡°No, Jane, no: t tion; do not attempt to make it so: nor of rest; do not turn slothful.¡± ¡°I mean, on trary, to be busy.¡± ¡°Jane, I excuse you for t: t of your neion, and for pleasing yourself e-found cions to look beyond Moor on, and sisterly society, and t of civilised affluence. I rouble you rength.¡± I looked at . Jo o talk so. I am disposed to be as content as a queen, and you try to stir me up to restlessness! to w end?¡± ¡°to turning to profit talents o your keeping; and of account. Jane, I sc. And try to restrain tionate fervour o commonplace cling so tenaciously to ties of tancy and ardour for an adequate cause; forbear to e trite transient objects. Do you hear, Jane?¡± ¡°Yes; just as if you o be happy, and I will be happy. Goodbye!¡± Moor o see tle of a urned topsy-turvy¡ª, and clean, and cook. And really, after a day or t aken a journey to S- to purcure: my cousins e blanco effect erations I pleased, and a sum aside for t purpose. tting-room and bedrooms I left mucables, and cacle of test innovations. Still some novelty o give to turn t to be invested. Dark s and curtains, an arrangement of some carefully selected antique ornaments in porcelain and bronze, neoilet tables, ans being glaring. A spare parlour and bedroom I refurnisirely, ery: I laid canvas on ts on tairs. Moor e a model of brig snugness try e and desert dreariness . tful t lengted about dark, and ere dusk fires upstairs and beloc trim; hannah and I were dressed, and all was in readiness. St. Jo. I reated o keep quite clear of till everytion, at once sordid and trivial, going on s o scare o estrangement. ccain cakes for tea, t last satisfied ing o accompany me on a general inspection of t of my labours. ity, I got o make tour of t looked in at tairs and doairs, deal of fatigue and trouble to ed suc a time: but not a syllable did ter indicating pleasure in t of his abode. t pererations urbed some old associations in a some-fallen tone. ¡°Not at all; rary, remarked t I ed every association: o on tter t es, for instance, ed to studying t of tell him where such a book was?¡± I sook it doo omed . No like t. Jo I began to feel ruties and amenities of life traction for s peaceful enjoyments no cerally, o aspire¡ªafter , certainly; but still , nor approve of oting round y foreill and pale as a one¡ª at s fixed in study¡ªI compre once t it rying to be ood, as by inspiration, ture of it a love of t exercised over o stifle and destroy it; rust its ever conducting permanently to erial from esmen, eadfast bul interests to rest upon; but, at too often a cold cumbrous column, gloomy and out of place. ¡°t ed: ¡°t s ter. ell may ic life; it is not : ties stagnate¡ªt develop or appear to advantage. It is in scenes of strife and danger¡ªude tasked¡ªt age of to c now.¡± ¡°t t old Carlo barked joyfully. Out I ran. It a rumbling of . topped at t; t one epped out. In a minute I s, in contact first cted Carlo, ive, ened into the house. tiff ing drive from cross, and cy nig t countenances expanded to t. in t. Jo t once. kiss, said in a loone a feood a alked to, and timating t o a place of refuge. I to go upstairs, but Diana to give able orders respecting ted ion and decorations of ts, and ricinted cification ungrudgingly. I my arrangements met tly, and t urn home. S evening. My cousins, full of exion, in narrative and comment, t t. Joaciturnity: o see ers; but in t sympat of t is, turn of Diana and Mary¡ªpleased ts of t event, tumult, tion irked ¡¯s enjoyment, about an er tea, a rap ered imation t ¡°a poor lad t unlikely time, to fetco see her, who was drawing away.¡± ¡°here does she live, hannah?¡± ¡°Clear up at cross Bro four miles off, and moor and moss all the way.¡± ¡°tell him I will go.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure, sir, you ter not. It¡¯s t road to travel after dark t can be: track at all over t is sucter nig . You ter send you he morning.¡± But ting on one objection, one murmur, ed. It return till midnigarved and tired enoug out. of duty; made an exertion; felt rengto do and deny, and ter terms h himself. I am afraid tried ience. It ook to no settled employment, but spent it in a sort of merry domestic dissipation. ty, acted on Diana and Mary¡¯s spirits like some life-giving elixir: till noon, and from noon till nigalk; and tty, pit I preferred listening to, and s, to doing anyt. Jo rebuke our vivacity; but : ion scattered, and ing ts different districts. One morning at breakfast, Diana, after looking a little pensive for some minutes, asked unchanged.¡± ¡°Unco inform us t ure from England ively fixed for the ensuing year. ¡°And Rosamond Oliver?¡± suggested Mary, to escape arily: for no sooner tered ture as if . Jo o read at meals¡ª, and looked up, ¡°Rosamond Oliver,¡± said to be married to Mr. Granby, one of t connected and most estimable residents in S-, grandson and o Sir Frederic Granby: I elligence from erday.¡± ers looked at eac me; him: he was serene as glass. ¡°tc up ily,¡± said Diana: ¡°t her long.¡± ¡°But t in October at ty ball at S-. But o a union, as in t case, desirable, delays are unnecessary: to tted for tion.¡± t time I found St. Joer tion, I felt tempted to inquire if t distressed tle to need sympat, so far from venturing to offer tion of ice in talking to . kept reating me like ers; inually made little c all tend to t of cordiality: in s, no I ance beto be far greater tress. ted to frigidity. Suc not a little surprised wooping, and said¡ª ¡°You see, Jane, ttle is fougory won.¡± Startled at being t immediately reply: after a moment¡¯s ation I answered¡ª ¡°But are you sure you are not in tion of triump too dear? ould not sucher ruin you?¡± ¡°I t; and if I does not muco contend for suc of t is decisive: my !¡± So saying, urned to his papers and his silence. As our mutual tled into a quieter cer, and udies, St. Joayed more at imes for ogeto my a) undertaken, and I fagged a German, ic lore of of some Eastern tongue, tion of o his plans. tting in and absorbed enoug t blue eye of of leaving tlandisimes fixing upon us, udents, ensity of observation: if caug antly ever and anon, it returned searco our table. I meant: I oo, at tual satisfaction o ex on an occasion t seemed to me of small moment, namely, my to Morton scill more to go, of tude, and encourage me to accomplisask regard to ts. ¡°Jane is not sucain blast, or a sitution is botic;¡ªbetter calculated to endure variations of climate t.¡± And imes a good deal tired, and not a little en, I never dared complain, because I sa to murmur o vex itude pleased he reverse was a special annoyance. One afternoon, leave to stay at ers o Morton in my stead: I sat reading Scal scrolls. As I excranslation for an exercise, I o look c tell: so keen , and yet so cold, I felt for t superstitious¡ªas if I ting in thing uncanny. ¡°Jane, w are you doing?¡± ¡°Learning German.¡± ¡°I you to give up German and learn anee.¡± ¡°You are not in earnest?¡± ¡°In suc t I must so: and I ell you why.¡± on to explain t anee present studying; t, as to forget t; t it ly to again and again go over ts, and so fix t ime bet t at a task t of t, pero make t ed noo ure. St. Jo a man to be lig t every impression made on . I consented. urned, transferred from o St. Joo sucep. ly¡ª ¡°I kno.¡± I found ient, very forbearing, and yet an exacting master: ed me to do a great deal; and ions, estified ion. By degrees, ain influence over me t took ay of mind: ice raining talk or laugiresomely importunate instinct reminded me t vivacity (at least in me) asteful to only serious moods and occupations able, t in to sustain or follo; ¡°come,¡± I came; ¡°do t. But I did not love my servitude: I o neglect me. One evening ime, ers and I stood round , om; and, as rolled by rong), exclaimed¡ª ¡°St. Joo call Jane your ter, but you don¡¯t treat oo.¡± So uncomfortably confused; and o a level ioned my eyes piercingly¡ªical cousin¡¯s salute belonged to one of t t kisses, and kiss. o learn t; it striking: I am sure I did not blus urned a little pale, for I felt as if to my fetters. ted tery and quiescence it, seemed to invest it for ain charm. As for me, I daily o do so, I felt daily more and more t I must disoifle ies, my tastes from t, force myself to tion of pursuits for ion. ed to train me to an elevation I could never reac racked me o aspire to tandard ed. to mould my irregular features to and classic pattern, to give to my cint and solemn lustre of his own. Not present. Of late it o look sad: a cankering evil sat at my and drained my its source¡ªthe evil of suspense. Perten Mr. Rocer, reader, amidst tune. Not for a moment. ill a vapour sunsraced effigy storms could ablet, fated to last as long as t inscribed. to knoon, I re-entered my cottage every evening to t; and no Moor my bedroom eac to brood over it. In t ter¡¯s present residence and state of , as St. Joured, e ignorant of all concerning e to Mrs. Fairfax, entreating information on t. I ed ainty on tep ans sure it an early ansonisnig reply; but er day t arrived and brougo t anxiety. I e again: t letter : it s, it faded, flickered: not a line, not a ancy, my , and t dark indeed. A fine spring s enjoy. Summer approacried to co accompany me to t. Jo dissipation, I ed employment; my present life oo purposeless, I required an aim; and, I suppose, by anee, and gre in requiring t: and I, like a fool, never t of resisting resist him. One day I o my studies in los tly felt disappointment. old me in tter for me, and o take it, almost certain t tidings , I found only an unimportant note from Mr. Briggs on business. tter cears; and no poring over ters and flourisropes of an Indian scribe, my eyes filled again. St. Joo o read; in attempting to do t in sobs. s of tising tion, nor did ion me as to its cause; he only said¡ª ¡°e a fees, Jane, till you are more composed.¡± And ient, leaning on ced and fully understood crisis in a patient¡¯s malady. ifled my sobs, tered somet not being very morning, I resumed my task, and succeeded in completing it. St. Jo away my books and his, locked his desk, and said¡ª ¡°Noh me.¡± ¡°I will call Diana and Mary.¡± ¡°No; I only one companion t must be you. Put on your t by tcake to.¡± I knoagonistic to my oe submission and determined revolt. I o t of bursting, sometimes o t circumstances ed, nor my present mood inclined me to mutiny, I observed careful obedience to St. Joions; and in ten minutes I reading track of th him. t: it came over t s of ainless blue; tream descending t spring rains, poured along plentiful and clear, catcints from t. As track, rod a soft turf, mossy fine and emerald green, minutely enamelled iny ar-like yelloime, s us quite in; for tos o their very core. ¡°Let us rest . Jo stragglers of a battalion of rocks, guarding a sort of pass, beyond tle fartain surf and floed to t guarded tude, and a last refuge for silence. I took a seat: St. Joood near me. ream, and returned to traverse t: , let tir : o something. ¡°And I s again,¡± e ream!¡± Strange range love! An austere patriot¡¯s passion for doo interval past, he recommenced¡ª ¡°Jane, I go in six Indiaman wh of June.¡± ¡°God ect you; for you aken his work,¡± I answered. ¡°Yes,¡± said of an infallible Master. I am not going out under to tive larol of my feeble felloain, is t. It seems strange to me t all round me do not burn to enlist under to join in terprise.¡± ¡°All your po o wiso marcrong.¡± ¡°I do not speak to tent to accomplis.¡± ¡°t to discover.¡± ¡°You say truly; but ir to urge and ex to t¡ªto s ts are, and from God, a place in the ranks of his chosen.¡± ¡°If task, ts be t to inform t?¡± I felt as if an ao al the spell. ¡°And . John. ¡°My is mute,¡ªmy is mute,¡± I ansruck and thrilled. ¡°t speak for it,¡± continued tless voice. ¡°Jane, come o India: come as my and fellow- labourer.¡± t le,¡ªI could not be receive his call. ¡°O. John!¡± I cried, ¡°have some mercy!¡± I appealed to one inued¡ª ¡°God and nature intended you for a missionary¡¯s is not personal, but mental endos t for love. A missionary¡¯s ¡ªs for my pleasure, but for my Sovereign¡¯s service.¡± ¡°I am not fit for it: I ion,¡± I said. ed on t objections: irritated by t t, and fixed enance, I saion, and aken in a stock of patience to last o its close¡ªresolved, t close s for him. ¡°y, Jane,¡± said ian virtues: you say rig you are not fit for t for it? Or ruly called, believed ance, am but dust and as. Paul, I ackno of sinners; but I do not suffer to daunt me. I kno as to perform a great task, ores of o trust like me. It is to lean on: do not doubt but it of your human weakness.¡± ¡°I do not understand a missionary life: I udied missionary labours.¡± ¡°t: I can set you your task from o and by you alo moment. trong and apt as myself, and require my help.¡± ¡°But my po feel tirs in me like a rayless dungeon, tered in its depto attempt accomplish!¡± ¡°I . I c met: I udy for ten mont time by sundry tests: and ually, uprigo your s and inclinations; I sa y and tact: you could you e readiness your o four s one to yourself, and relinquiso tract justice, I recognised a soul t revelled in tement of sacrifice. In tractability my ed, and adopted anot interested me; in tiring assiduity ¡ªin temper its difficulties¡ªI ackno of ties I seek. Jane, you are docile, diligent, disinterested, faitant, and courageous; very gentle, and very o mistrust yourself¡ªI can trust you unreservedly. As a conductress of Indian sc Indian ance o me invaluable.¡± My iron sracted round me; persuasion advanced ep. S my eyes as I er of an o think, before I again hazarded a reply. ¡°Very tle distance up till. ¡°I can do o do: I am forced to see and ackno,¡± I meditated,¡ª¡°t is, if life be spared me. But I feel mine is not tence to be long protracted under an Indian sun. t care for t: o die, y and sanctity, to t empty land¡ªMr. Rocer is not t is, ever be to me? My business is to live o drag on from day to day, as if I ing some impossible cances, e me to . Jo seek anoterest in life to replace t: is not tion ruly t glorious man can adopt or God assign? Is it not, by its noble cares and sublime results, t calculated to fill t by uptorn affections and demolis say, Yes¡ªand yet I s. Joo India, I go to premature deaterval bet, too, is very clear to my vision. By straining to satisfy St. Joill my sine central point and fart outions. If I do go absolutely: I ar¡ª, vitals, tire victim. yet seen, resources ed. Yes, I can le grudging. ¡°Consent, to for one item¡ªone dreadful item. It is¡ªt o be for me t fro of a rock, doo can I let e ions¡ªcoolly put into practice not t e absent? Can I bear t every endearment orous. I . As er, I mig as ell him so.¡± I looked toill as a prostrate column; urned to me: carted to and approached me. ¡°I am ready to go to India, if I may go free.¡± ¡°Your ansary,¡± is not clear.¡± ¡°You o been my adopted broted sister: let us continue as sucter not marry.¡± ed fraternity do in ter it : I sake you, and seek no as it is, eit be consecrated and sealed by marriage, or it cannot exist: practical obstacles oppose to any ot see it, Jane? Consider a moment¡ªyour strong sense will guide you.¡± I did consider; and still my sense, suc ed me only to t t love eac inferred o marry. I said so. ¡°St. Journed, ¡°I regard you as a broter: so let us continue.¡± ¡°e cannot¡ª,¡± , sermination: ¡°it do. You o India: remember¡ªyou .¡± ¡°Conditionally.¡± ¡°ell¡ªo t¡ªture ion ure labours¡ªyou do not object. You your o too consistent to . You one end to keep in vie be done. Simplify your complicated interests, feelings, ts, of fulfilling ¡ª Master. to do so, you must or: not a brot is a loose tie¡ªbut a oo, do not a sister: a sister migaken from me. I a I can influence efficiently in life, and retain absolutely till death.¡± I s his influence in my marrow¡ªhis hold on my limbs. ¡°Seek one elseed to you.¡± ¡°One fitted to my purpose, you mean¡ªfitted to my vocation. Again I tell you it is not t private individual¡ªto mate: it is the missionary.¡± ¡°And I is all s¡ªbut not myself: t o tain them.¡± ¡°You cannot¡ªyou oug. Do you tisfied ion? ill a mutilated sacrifice? It is te: it is under andard I enlist you. I cannot accept on must be entire.¡± ¡°O to God,¡± I said. ¡°You do not it.¡± I s t sometone in ence, and in t accompanied it. I ly feared St. Joill noood . , al, I could not ofore tell: but revelations ure , sitting t at t of a man, caring as I. tism. in ies, I felt ion and took courage. I argue¡ªone . after I tered t sentence, and I presently risked an up enance. on me, expressed at once stern surprise and keen inquiry. ¡°Is sic, and sarcastic to me!¡± it seemed to say. ¡° does this signify?¡± ¡°Do not let us forget t tter,¡± alk lig sin. I trust, Jane, you are in earnest o God: it is all I . Once on your Maker, t of t Maker¡¯s spiritual kingdom on eart and endeavour; you o do at once end. You us o your efforts and mine by our pal union in marriage: t gives a cer of permanent conformity to tinies and designs of rivial difficulties and delicacies of feeling¡ªall scruple about trengtenderness of mere personal inclination¡ª you o enter into t union at once.¡± ¡°S ures, beautiful in t strangely formidable in till severity; at not open; at and deep and searc never soft; at all imposing figure; and fancied myself in idea capacity; toil under Eastern suns, in Asian deserts office; admire and emulate ion and vigour; accommodate quietly to erurbed at ion; discriminate tian from teem ten, no doubt, attaco y: my body ringent yoke, but my and mind o turn to: my natural unenslaved feelings o communicate in moments of loneliness. to s groered y could never bligrample do as rained, and alure continually loo compel it to burn inter a cry, tal after vital¡ªthis would be unendurable. ¡°St. Jo so far in my meditation. ¡°ell?¡± he answered icily. ¡°I repeat I freely consent to go not as your marry you and become part of you.¡± ¡°A part of me you must become,¡± eadily; ¡°ot yet ty, take out o India a girl of nineteen, unless so me? ogetimes in solitudes, sometimes amidst savage tribes¡ªand unwed?¡± ¡°Very ances, quite as er, or a man and a clergyman like yourself.¡± ¡°It is kno you are not my sister; I cannot introduce you as suco attempt it o fasten injurious suspicions on us bot, t and¡ªit do.¡± ¡°It ly not y, fraternity, if you like; a neope¡¯s respect and submission to : not fear.¡± ¡°It is ,¡± o is just . And tacles in t be repent marrying me¡ªbe certain of t; be married. I repeat it: tedly enougo render t even in your eyes.¡± ¡°I scorn your idea of love,¡± I could not ood before terfeit sentiment you offer: yes, St. Jo.¡± me fixedly, compressing lips easy to tell: enance thoroughly. ¡°I scarcely expected to expression from you,¡± tered noto deserve scorn.¡± I oucle tone, and overawed by his high, calm mien. ¡°Forgive me t. Jo it is your o t I o speak so unguardedly. You roduced a topic on variance¡ªa topic y .¡± ¡°No,¡± said is a long-c end: but I s present. to-morronigake t space of time to consider my offer: and do not forget t if you reject it, it is not me you deny, but God. to you a noble career; as my er upon it. Refuse to be my yourself for ever to a track of selfisy. tremble lest in t case you shan infidels!¡± urning from me, he once more ¡°Looked to river, looked to hill.¡± But time in : I o tered. As I oment of an austere and despotic nature, ance ed submission¡ªtion of a cool, inflexible judgment, ed in anot o sympat, as a man, o coerce me into obedience: it ly y, and alloion and repentance. t niger ers, proper to forget even to s left t by t t tears started to my eyes. ¡°I see you and St. Jo go after ing you¡ª up.¡± I mucances: I er ood at t of tairs. ¡°Good-nig. John,¡± said I. ¡°Good-night, Jane,¡± he replied calmly. ¡°then shake hands,¡± I added. a cold, loose touc day; cordiality ears move ion o be still tian ient and placid; and of cion; t o forgive, not having been offended. And answer me. I would mucher he had knocked me down. Chapter 34 . Jo, it o snoorm continued all nig day a keen impassable. I ter, laid a mat to to prevent t, trimmed my fire, and after sitting nearly an ening to tempest, I lit a candle, took down ¡°Marmion,¡± and beginning¡ª ¡°Day set on Norled steep, And tweed¡¯s fair river broad and deep, And C¡¯s mountains lone; tohe donjon keep, t round them sweep, In yellore shone¡±¡ª I soon forgot storm in music. I , s . Joing tc of tood before me: t covered all figure all in consternation, so little ed any guest from t night. ¡°Any ill news?¡± I demanded. ¡°hing happened?¡± ¡°No. up against tos. ¡°I sy of your floor,¡± said you must excuse me for once.¡± to get took me up to t; e soft yet.¡± ¡°But w forbear saying. ¡°Ratable question to put to a visitor; but since you ask it, I anso tle talk tired of my mute books and empty rooms. Besides, since yesterday I ement of a person to to he sequel.¡± doerday, and really I began to fear s ouced insanity: I ured face of did just no s grieved me to discover trace of care or sorroed, expecting least compre struck me t ed like y came over my : I o say¡ª ¡°I oo bad t you se alone; and you are recklessly ras your own h.¡± ¡°Not at all,¡± said do you see amiss in me?¡± tracted indifference, ude least in his opinion, wholly superfluous. I was silenced. ill sloe; t urgent to say sometly if any cold draughe door, which was behind him. ¡°No, no!¡± ly and someestily. ¡°ell,¡± I reflected, ¡°if you talk, you may be still; I¡¯ll let you alone nourn to my book.¡± So I snuffed tirred; my eye antly drao s; ook out a morocco pocket-book, tter, it back, relapsed into meditation. It o try to read able fixture before me; nor could I, in impatience, consent to be dumb; rebuff me if my talk I would. ¡°ely?¡± ¡°Not since tter I showed you a week ago.¡± ¡°t been any c your os? You be summoned to leave England sooner ted?¡± ¡°I fear not, indeed: sucoo good to befall me.¡± Baffled so far, I c myself to talk about the school and my scholars. ¡°Mary Garrett¡¯s motter, and Mary came back to t o-day but for the snow.¡± ¡°Indeed!¡± ¡°Mr. Oliver pays for two.¡± ¡°Does he?¡± ¡°o give treat at Cmas.¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°as it your suggestion?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°hen?¡± ¡°er¡¯s, I think.¡± ¡°It is like ured.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Again came truck eigrokes. It aroused erect, turned to me. ¡°Leave your book a moment, and come a little nearer the fire,¡± he said. ondering, and of my wonder finding no end, I complied. ¡°ience to ale: on reflection, I find tter ter managed by my assuming tor¡¯s part, and converting you into a listener. Before commencing, it is but fair to tory ale details often regain a degree of fres, e or novel, it is s. ¡°ty years ago, a poor curate¡ªnever mind t¡ªfell in love er; s tly disoer tly side by side under one slab. (I formed part of t of a -black old caturing tos very birty received in of t I almost stuck fast in to-nigy carried to ts ricernal relations; it -in-lao names noesart¡ªdid you is only a rat scrambling along ters of t ered, and barns are generally ed by rats.¡ªto proceed. Mrs. Reed kept ten years: say, never old; but at t time sransferred it to a place you kno seems eac strikes me ts in ory and yours¡ªs it to be a governess: tes ion of tain Mr. Rocer.¡± ¡°Mr. Rivers!¡± I interrupted. ¡°I can guess your feelings,¡± restrain to ter¡¯s cer I kno t t o offer o t at tar s alive, tic. conduct and proposals ter of pure conjecture; but ranspired ; every researcer ry ige of information could be gating t ster of serious urgency: advertisements in all tter from one Mr. Briggs, a solicitor, communicating tails I imparted. Is it not an odd tale?¡± ¡°Just tell me tell it me¡ªw of Mr. Rocer? is he doing? Is he well?¡± ¡°I am ignorant of all concerning Mr. Rocer: tter never mentions to narrate t and illegal attempt I ed to. You sure of t which requires her appearance.¡± ¡°Did no one go to ter?¡± ¡°I suppose not.¡± ¡°But te to him?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°And ers?¡± ¡°Mr. Briggs intimates t to ion from Mr. Rocer, but from a lady: it is signed ¡®Alice Fairfax.¡¯¡± I felt cold and dismayed: my fears true: y left England and rusion to some former on tinent. And e for object for rong passions¡ª t ansion. Oer¡ªonce almost my en called ¡°my dear Edward!¡± ¡° have been a bad man,¡± observed Mr. Rivers. ¡°You don¡¯t know pronounce an opinion upon h. ¡°Very o finis ask t tell it of my oay! I is alisfactory to see important points ten doted to black and we.¡± And t-book ely produced, opened, sougs compartments racted a sily torn off: I recognised in its texture and its stains of ultra-marine, and lake, and vermillion, trait-cover. up, close to my eyes: and I read, traced in Indian ink, in my oless of some moment of abstraction. ¡°Briggs e to me of a Jane Eyre:¡± isements demanded a Jane Eyre: I knet.¡ªI confess I it erday afternoon t once resolved into certainty. You ohe alias?¡± ¡°Yes¡ªyes; but han you do.¡± ¡°Briggs is in London. I s all about Mr. Rocer; it is not in Mr. Rocer erested. Meantime, you forget essential points in pursuing trifles: you do not inquire er you¡ªh you.¡± ¡°ell, w did ?¡± ¡°Merely to tell you t your uncle, Mr. Eyre of Madeira, is dead; t you all y, and t you are nohing more.¡± ¡°I!¡ªrich?¡± ¡°Yes, you, rice an heiress.¡± Silence succeeded. ¡°You must prove your identity of course,¡± resumed St. Joly: ¡°a step er on immediate possession. Your fortune is vested in ts.¡± urned up! It is a fine to be lifted in a moment from indigence to not a matter one can comprely enjoy, all at once. And ture-giving: tual it: all its associations are solid and sober, and its manifestations are t jump, and spring, and s a fortune; one begins to consider responsibilities, and to ponder business; on a base of steady satisfaction rise certain grave cares, and ain ourselves, and blood over our bliss h a solemn brow. Besides, t, go side by side ive; ever since being made a to me and a rejoicing family, but to my isolated self. It less; and independence t¡ªt t swelled my . ¡°You unbend your fore last,¡± said Mr. Rivers. ¡°I t Medusa you, and t you urning to stone. Perh?¡± ¡°h?¡± ¡°Orifle! Noto speak of¡ªty t ?¡± ¡°ty thousand pounds?¡± unner¡ªI ing on four or five tually took my breat: Mr. St. John, whom I had never heard laugh before, laughed now. ¡°ell,¡± said ted a murder, and I old you your crime was discovered, you could scarcely look more ag.¡± ¡°It is a large sum¡ªdon¡¯t you take?¡± ¡°No mistake at all.¡± ¡°Per may be thousand!¡± ¡°It is ten in letters, not figures,¡ªty thousand.¡± I again felt rat average gastronomical poting doo feast alone at a table spread his cloak on. ¡°If it suc,¡± o keep you company: you look too desperately miserable to be left alone. But stride ts so e so long: so I must e¡¯en leave you to your sorro.¡± ing tc occurred to me. ¡°Stop one minute!¡± I cried. ¡°ell?¡± ¡°It puzzles me to knoo you about me; or you, living in suc-of-to aid in my discovery.¡± ¡°Oen appealed to about odd matters.¡± Again tctled. ¡°No; t does not satisfy me!¡± I exclaimed: and indeed ty and unexplanatory reply y more than ever. ¡°It is a very strange piece of business,¡± I added; ¡°I must kno it.¡± ¡°Anotime.¡± ¡°No; to-nigo-nigurned from t and her embarrassed. ¡°You certainly s go till you old me all,¡± I said. ¡°I just now.¡± ¡°You s!¡± ¡°I her Diana or Mary informed you.¡± Of course tions ified it must be, and t delay; and I told him so. ¡°But I apprised you t I o persuade.¡± ¡°And I am a o put off.¡± ¡°And ts me.¡± ¡°, and fire dissolves ice. token, it reamed on to my floor, and made it like a trampled street. As you o be forgiven, Mr. Rivers, tcell me w I wiso know.¡± ¡°ell, t to your earnestness, to your perseverance: as stone is inual dropping. Besides, you must knoer. Your name is Jane Eyre?¡± ¡°Of course: t tled before.¡± ¡°You are not, per I am your namesake?¡ªt I . John Eyre Rivers?¡± ¡°No, indeed! I remember noter E. comprised in your initials ten in books you different times lent me; but I never asked for stood. But hen? Surely¡ª¡± I stopped: I could not trust myself to entertain, muco express, t t rus embodied itself,¡ª t, in a second, stood out a strong, solid probability. Circumstances knit tted t into order: t o a formless lump of links straig, tion complete. I kneinct, ter stood, before St. Jo I cannot expect to uitive perception, so I must repeat ion. ¡°My motes, late of Funcor, e to us last August to inform us of our uncle¡¯s deato say t y to er, overlooking us, in consequence of a quarrel, never forgiven, beto intimate t t, and asking if ten on a slip of paper o find . You kno.¡± Again I set my back against the door. ¡°Do let me speak,¡± I said; ¡°let me to dra.¡± I paused¡ªood before me, in hand, looking composed enough. I resumed¡ª ¡°Your moter?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°My aunt, consequently?¡± he bowed. ¡°My uncle Joer¡¯s cher¡¯s child?¡± ¡°Undeniably.¡± ¡°You the same source?¡± ¡°e are cousins; yes.¡± I surveyed seemed I ers, rangers, tion and admiration. tticed er a mixture of interest and despair, ately gentleman ion. Glorious discovery to a lonely co t!¡ªa mine of pure, genial affections. t, vivid, and exing;¡ªnot like t of gold: rics sobering from its weighrilled. ¡°Oh, I am glad!¡ªI am glad!¡± I exclaimed. St. Jo say you neglected essential points to pursue trifles?¡± old you you a fortune; and noter of no moment, you are excited.¡± ¡° can you mean? It may be of no moment to you; you ers and don¡¯t care for a cousin; but I ions,¡ªor t co be counted,¡ªare born into my world full-grown. I say again, I am glad!¡± I topped, ed s t rose faster ttle ts of t seemed a sky tars,¡ªevery one lit me to a purpose or deligill t. ttered,¡ªI could reunite t be too. ere four? ty tice¡ªenougo spare: justice ual a mere bequest of coin,¡ªit was a legacy of life, . aking my spirit by storm, I cannot tell; but I perceived soon t Mr. Rivers ly attempting to make me sit do. o be composed; I scorned tion of raction, so again. ¡°rite to Diana and Mary to-morroell to come ly. Diana said they will do very well.¡± ¡°tell me er,¡± said St. Jo really make an effort to tranquillise your feelings.¡± ¡°Nonsense! and of an effect keep you in England, induce you to marry Miss Oliver, and settle doal?¡± ¡°You in communicating t ed you beyond your strength.¡± ¡°Mr. Rivers! you quite put me out of patience: I am rational enoug is you to misunderstand.¡± ¡°Pertle more fully, I ster.¡± ¡°Explain! is to explain? You cannot fail to see t ty tion, divided equally beto eac I is, t you se to your sisters and tell tune t o them.¡± ¡°to you, you mean.¡± ¡°I imated my vieaking any ot brutally selfis, or fiendiseful. Besides, I am resolved I aco Diana and Mary. It me to orment and oppress me to y tice, t migo you, t is absolutely superfluous to me. Let tion, and no discussion about it; let us agree amongst eac at once.¡± ¡°ting on first impulses; you must take days to consider sucter, ere your word can be regarded as valid.¡± ¡°O is my sincerity, I am easy: you see tice of the case?¡± ¡°I do see a certain justice; but it is contrary to all custom. Besides, tire fortune is your rig by s; o leave it to to you. After all, justice permits you to keep it: you may, absolutely your own.¡± ¡°it is fully as mucter of feeling as of conscience: I must indulge my feelings; I so seldom unity of doing so. ere you to argue, object, and annoy me for a year, I could not forego t a glimpse¡ªt of repaying, in part, a migion, and o myself lifelong friends.¡± ¡°You t. Jo kno is to possess, nor consequently to enjoy form a notion of tance ty t o take in society; of ts it o you: you cannot¡ª¡± ¡°And you,¡± I interrupted, ¡°cannot at all imagine ternal and sisterly love. I never ers; I must and ant to admit me and own me, are you?¡± ¡°Jane, I ers ers¡ª stipulating for t rights.¡± ¡°Brot tance of a ters? Yes; slaving amongst strangers! I, merit! You, penniless! Famous equality and fraternisation! Close union! Intimate attac!¡± ¡°But, Jane, your aspirations after family ties and domestic emplate: you may marry.¡± ¡°Nonsense, again! Marry! I don¡¯t to marry, and never shall marry.¡± ¡°t is saying too mucions are a proof of tement under which you labour.¡± ¡°It is not saying too muc I feel, and ions to t of marriage. No one ake me for love; and I be regarded in t of a mere money speculation. And I do not a stranger¡ªunsympat from me; I my kindred: ttered tisfied, t them sincerely.¡± ¡°I ters; and I knoion for t for tion of talents. You too astes and s resemble Diana¡¯s and Mary¡¯s; your presence is alo me; in your conversation I ime found a salutary solace. I feel I can easily and naturally make room in my for you, as my t sister.¡± ¡°t contents me for to-nigter go; for if you stay longer, you e me afresrustful scruple.¡± ¡°And t must now be s up, I suppose?¡± ¡°No. I ain my post of mistress till you get a substitute.¡± ion: we sook leave. I need not narrate in detail truggles I s I used, to get matters regarding ttled as I ely resolved¡ªas my cousins sa lengt my mind ably fixed on making a just division of ty¡ªas t in ts ty of tention; and must, besides, ely conscious t in my place t I lengto consent to put to arbitration. t. truments of transfer : St. Joency. Chapter 35 leave for Cambridge t day, as ure a ime severe punis a good yet stern, a conscientious yet implacable man can inflict on one act of ility, one upbraiding o impress me momently ion t I beyond the pale of his favour. Not t St. Jo of uncian vindictiveness¡ª not t o do so. Boture and principle, o tification of vengeance: forgotten t turned to me, t tten on tween me and o oned every answer he gave me. abstain from conversing o join man ed to, and unsian, in evincing skill ing and speaking apparently just as usual, extract from every deed and every p of interest and approval ain austere co o me, y become no longer fles marble; , blue gem; ongue a speaking instrument¡ª nothing more. All torture to me¡ªrefined, lingering torture. It kept up a sloion and a trembling trouble of grief, draest stain of crime. Especially I felt ttempt to propitiate my rutrangement¡ªno yearning after reconciliation; and t falling tears blistered t, t on ter of stone or metal. to ers, meantime, kinder t mere coldness sufficiently convince me ely I ; and t by force, but on principle. t before o see sunset, and remembering, as I looked at ted as ions, I o make a last attempt to regain out and approacood leaning over ttle gate; I spoke to t at once. ¡°St. Joill angry us be friends.¡± ¡°I ill cemplating as I approached. ¡°No, St. Jo friends as .¡± ¡°Are ? t is , I wish you no ill and all good.¡± ¡°I believe you, St. Jo, as I am your kinsion t sort of general pend to mere strangers.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± ranger.¡± tranquil tone, ifying and baffling enougtended to tions of pride and ire, I sely sometrongly ted my cousin¡¯s talent and principle. o me: to lose it tried me severely. I so soon relinquistempt to reconquer it. ¡°Must in t. Joo India, a kinder spoken?¡± urned quite from the moon and faced me. ¡°o India, Jane, go to India?¡± ¡°You said I could not unless I married you.¡± ¡°And you marry me! You ado t resolution?¡± Reader, do you knoerror t into tions? heir displeasure? ¡°No. St. Jo marry you. I ado my resolution.¡± ttle for it did not yet crash down. ¡°Once more, whis refusal?¡± he asked. ¡°Formerly,¡± I ans love me; no e me. If I o marry you, you would kill me. You are killing me now.¡± urned e we. ¡°I s not to be used: violent, unfeminine, and untrue. tray an unfortunate state of mind: t severe reproof: t t it is ty of man to forgive il seventy-and-seven times.¡± I ly tenacious surface anot it in. ¡°No is useless to attempt to conciliate you: I see I ernal enemy of you.¡± A fres: toucrut bloodless lip quivered to a temporary spasm. I kneeely ire I ted. I was -wrung. ¡°You utterly misinterpret my once seizing ention to grieve or pain you¡ªindeed, I .¡± Most bitterly decidedly go to India at all, I presume?¡± said er a considerable pause. ¡°Yes, I ant,¡± I answered. A very long silence succeeded. struggle ture and Grace in terval, I cannot tell: only singular gleams scintillated in range s last. ¡°I before proved to you ty of a single o accompany abroad a single man of mine. I proved it to you in sucerms as, I s, o t you ¡ªfor your sake.¡± I interrupted angible reproac once. ¡°Keep to common sense, St. Joend to be s I really s be eited as to misunderstand my meaning. I say again, I e, if you like, but never your wife.¡± Again urned lividly pale; but, as before, controlled ly. ically but calmly¡ª ¡°A female curate, me. it seems, you cannot go: but if you are sincere in your offer, I o a married missionary, une of ty¡¯s aid; and till be spared ting to join.¡± Noo any engagement; and too oo despotic for the occasion. I replied¡ª ¡°tion in t under test obligation to go to India, especially rangers. itured mucer, I love you; but I am convinced t, go climate.¡± ¡°Ah! you are afraid of yourself,¡± he said, curling his lip. ¡°I am. God did not give me my life to to do as you equivalent to committing suicide. Moreover, before I definitively resolve on quitting England, I ain er use by remaining in it t.¡± ¡° do you mean?¡± ¡°It less to attempt to explain; but t on doubt is removed.¡± ¡°I knourns and to clings. terest you ced. Long since you ougo : noo it. You ter?¡± It rue. I confessed it by silence. ¡°Are you going to seek Mr. Rocer?¡± ¡°I must find out w is become of him.¡± ¡°It remains for me, to remember you in my prayers, and to entreat God for you, in all earnestness, t you may not indeed become a casta God sees not as man sees: his will be done¡ª¡± e, passed t, and strayed a of sight. On re-entering tanding at tful. Diana deal taller t ooping, examined my face. ¡°Jane,¡± sated and pale noter. tell me . Joc forgive my being suc for a long time I . St. Jorange being¡ª¡± S speak: soon she resumed¡ª ¡°t brot respecting you, I am sure: inguisice and interest o any one else¡ªto w end? I wish he loved you¡ªdoes he, Jane?¡± I put o my fore one w.¡± ¡°t you so frequently alone inually at o marry him.¡± ¡°o be his wife.¡± Diana clapped is just ay in England.¡± ¡°Far from t, Diana; o me is to procure a fitting fellow-labourer in oils.¡± ¡°! o go to India?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Madness!¡± s live tain. You never s consented, have you, Jane?¡± ¡°I o marry him¡ª¡± ¡°And ly displeased ed. ¡°Deeply: I offered to accompany er.¡± ¡°It ic folly to do so, Jane. task you undertook¡ªone of incessant fatigue, rong, and you are . Joo impossibilities: o rest during t unately, I iced, o perform. I am astoniso refuse love hen, Jane?¡± ¡°Not as a husband.¡± ¡°Yet he is a handsome fellow.¡± ¡°And I am so plain, you see, Die. e s.¡± ¡°Plain! You? Not at all. You are mucoo pretty, as oo good, to be grilled alive in Calcutta.¡± And again sly conjured me to give up all ts of going out her. ¡°I must indeed,¡± I said; ¡°for ed t my of decency. o tted an impropriety in proposing to accompany from t o find in ually regarded him as such.¡± ¡° makes you say love you, Jane?¡± ¡°You s. it is not o mate. old me I am formed for labour¡ªnot for love: . But, in my opinion, if I am not formed for love, it follo I am not formed for marriage. ould it not be strange, Die, to be co a man ool?¡± ¡°Insupportable¡ªunnatural¡ªout of tion!¡± ¡°And tinued, ¡°terly affection for , if forced to be y of conceiving an inevitable, strange, torturing kind of love for alented; and ten a certain ion. In t case, my lot c me to love it y, unrequired by him, unbecoming in me. I know he would.¡± ¡°And yet St. John is a good man,¡± said Diana. ¡° man; but s, pitilessly, ttle people, in pursuing is better, t to keep out of , in rample tened upstairs as I sahe garden. But I o meet supper. During t meal as composed as usual. I o me, and I ain of rimonial scaken on bots. e, been e. No doubt to subdue the anger I had roused in him, and now believed he had forgiven me once more. For ted ty-first cer of Revelation. It all times pleasant to listen and full¡ªnever did s noble simplicity, as ook a more solemn tone¡ªt manner a more t in t of ained unnecessary t of table): as t old Bible, and described from its page told o dears from t things were passed away. trangely as , by t, indescribable alteration in sound, t in uttering turned on me. ¡° overcomet all t,¡± inctly read, ¡°t in tone, wh.¡± fate St. John feared for me. A calm, subdued triump ness, marked ion of t glorious verses of t cer. tten in ter t o ty to ens it, and t thereof. In ter, all ern zeal ling . ed strengted; guidance for urn, even at temptations of tcness is ever deeply solemn: first, as I listened to t prayer, I continued and rose, I ouc, and at last aness and goodness of , could not but feel it too. took leave of o go at a very early t from endered my journey. ¡°turn from Cambridge in a fortnig space, t left you for reflection. If I listened to o you of marriage I listen to my duty, and keep steadily in vie aim¡ªto do all to ter give you up to perdition as a vessel of ¡ªresolve, ime. Remember, o ¡®t comete of Dives, o c better part aken from you!¡± tered t of a lover beress, but it of a pastor recalling ter, of a guardian angel calent, s, or despots¡ªprovided only ts, ion for St. Joion so strong t its impetus t me at once to t I empted to cease struggling o rusorrent of o tence, and t as by imes. to o . So I t to t medium of time: I tant. I stood motionless under my ¡¯s toucten¡ªmy fears overcome¡ªmy lings paralysed. t. Jo becoming tterly ogetes opening, sernity beyond: it seemed, t for safety and bliss t be sacrificed in a second. the dim room was full of visions. ¡°Could you decide no in gentle tones: o ly. O gentleness! ent is it t St. Jo as a reed under I kneime, if I yielded noo repent, some day, of my former rebellion. ure c ed. ¡°I could decide if I certain,¡± I ans convinced t it is God¡¯s will I so marry you erwards w would!¡± ¡°My I prayers are ed St. Jo as if ¡ªI kne o be loved; but, like love out of tion, and t only of duty). I contended rolled. I sincerely, deeply, fervently longed to do ed of ed more t follo of excitement the reader shall judge. All till; for I believe all, except St. Joired to rest. t: t. My beat fast and ts t stood still to an inexpressible feeling t t t once to my remities. t like an electric s it e as srange, as startling: it acted on my senses as if tmost activity o torpor, from ant: eye and ear ed whe flesh quivered on my bones. ¡° do you see?¡± asked St. Jo I heard a voice somewhere cry¡ª ¡°Jane! Jane! Jane!¡±¡ªnothing more. ¡°O God! ?¡± I gasped. I mig?¡± for it did not seem in t did not come out of t¡ª of Ed spoke in pain and ly. ¡°I am coming!¡± I cried. ¡°ait for me! Oo to t into t was void. ¡°here are you?¡± I exclaimed. t tly back¡ª¡°ened. t hush. ¡°Doition!¡± I commented, as t spectre rose up black by t te. ¡°t tion, nor tc: it is ture. S .¡± I broke from St. Joained me. It ime to assume ascendency. My poold o forbear question or remark; I desired o leave me: I must and o my c o St. Jo effective in its orate very near a Mig; and my soul rus in gratitude at . I rose from took a resolve¡ªand lay do. Chapter 36 t came. I rose at dao leave time, I . Jo opped at my door: I feared a slip of paper ook it up. It bore these words¡ª ¡°You left me too suddenly last nigayed but a little longer, you your clear decision nigime, c you enter not into temptation: t, I trust, is t. JOhN.¡± ¡°My spirit,¡± I ansally, ¡°is o do inctly knoo me. At any rate, it srong enougo searco grope an outlet from t, and find tainty.¡± It of June; yet t and c fast on my casement. I -door open, and St. Jo. Looking traverse took ty moors in tion of cross¡ªt the coach. ¡°In a ferack, cousin,¡± t I: ¡°I too o meet at cross. I too o see and ask after in England, before I depart for ever.¡± It ed yet time. I filled terval in ly about my room, and pondering tation . I recalled t inion I , s unspeakable strangeness. I recalled tioned seemed in me¡ªnot in ternal a mere nervous impression¡ªa delusion? I could not conceive or believe: it ion. tions of Paul and Silas¡¯s prison; it s bands¡ªit out of its sleep, rembling, listening, ag; ted tartled ear, and in my quaking and t, ed as if in joy over t it o make, independent of the cumbrous body. ¡°Ere many days,¡± I said, as I terminated my musings, ¡°I nigo summon me. Letters hem.¡± At breakfast I announced to Diana and Mary t I least four days. ¡°Alone, Jane?¡± they asked. ¡°Yes; it o see or wime been uneasy.¡± t t, t to be any friends save ten said so; but, rue natural delicacy, tained from comment, except t Diana asked me if I ravel. I looked very pale, s noty of mind, e. It o make my furts; for I roubled o t I could not no about my plans, to me tion I sances hem. I left Moor ter four I stood at t of t of cross, ing to take me to distant t tary roads and desert approac distance. It ed one summer evening on t¡ªe, and less! It stopped as I beckoned. I entered¡ªnot noo part une as ts accommodation. Once more on to t like the messenger-pigeon flying home. It y out from cross on a tuesday afternoon, and early on topped to er t a uated in t of scenery of ern Norton!) met my eye like ts of a once familiar face. Yes, I kneer of this landscape: I was sure we were near my bourne. ¡°ler. ¡°Just the fields.¡± ¡°My journey is closed,¡± I t to myself. I got out of to tler¡¯s co be kept till I called for it; paid my fare; satisfied tening day gleamed on t letters, ¡°ter Arms.¡± My leapt up: I er¡¯s very lands. It fell again: t struck it:¡ª ¡°Your master is you kno to speak to your labour¡ªyou ter go no fartor. ¡°Ask information of t ts at once. Go up to t man, and inquire if Mr. Rocer be at home.¡± tion I could not force myself to act on it. I so dreaded a reply t o prolong yet once more see tar. tile before me¡ªtracted racking and scourging me, on t course I o take, I of t I c vie feelings I rees I knehem! At last tered dark; a loud caillness. Strange deligened. Anotyard self, till vie s,¡± I determined, ¡°tlements rike t once, and er¡¯s very it¡ª in front. Could I but see a moment! Surely, in t case, I s be so mad as to run to tell¡ªI am not certain. And if I did¡ª t by my once more tasting t t cideless sea of th.¡± I ed along turned its angle: te just to tone pillars croone balls. From bely at t of tion, desirous to ascertain if any bedroom dratlements, ¡ªall from tered station my command. tcook t t. t imid at first, and t gradually I greare; and ture from my nicraying out into top full in front of t mansion, and a protracted, o. ¡° affectation of diffidence first?¡± t stupid regardlessness now?¡± ration, reader. A lover finds ress asleep on a mossy bank; o catc ly over to make no sound; irred: for s on ures: s it, bends loe ty¡ª. glance! But arts! ly clasps in bot, a moment since, touc er¡ªby any movement sly: one dead. I looked imorous joy toately house: I saw a blackened ruin. No need to co, indeed!¡ªto peep up at ctices, fearing life ir beo listen for doors opening¡ªto fancy steps on t or trodden and e: tal ya a tlements, no chimneys¡ªall had crashed in. And t it: tude of a lonesome letters addressed to people cles to a vault in a cones told by e tion: but story belonged to ter? loss, besides mortar and marble and o ans¡ªnot even dumb sign, mute token. In tered ated interior, I gat ty of late occurrence. inter sno, ed t void arcer rains beaten in at ts; for, amidst tation: grass and ones and fallen rafters. And oime land? Under arily o toes, and I asked, ¡°Is er, ser of his narrow marble house?¡± Some ans be o tions. I could find it no turned. t my breakfast into ted o s t doo ask acle of desolation I left prepared me in a measure for a tale of misery. t able-looking, middle-aged man. ¡°You knoo say at last. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am; I lived there once.¡± ¡°Did you?¡± Not in my time, I t: you are a stranger to me. ¡°I e Mr. Rocer¡¯s butler,¡± he added. te! I seem to rying to evade. ¡°te!¡± gasped. ¡°Is he dead?¡± ¡°I mean t gentleman, Mr. Eds flo Mr. Ed alive: gentleman.¡± Gladdening seemed I could o come¡ª be¡ªive tranquillity. Since in t, to learn t tipodes. ¡°Is Mr. Rocer living at t t yet desirous of deferring t question as to where he really was. ¡°No, ma¡¯am¡ªoranger in ts, or you umn,¡ªte a ruin: it do about -time. A dreadful calamity! sucity of valuable property destroyed: ure could be saved. t at dead of nige, t errible spectacle: I nessed it myself.¡± ¡°At dead of nigtered. Yes, t ality at t knoed?¡± I demanded. ¡°t ained beyond a doubt. You are not perinued, edging tle nearer table, and speaking lo tic, kept in the house?¡± ¡°I .¡± ¡°S in very close confinement, ma¡¯am: people even for some years absolutely certain of ence. No one sa s to conjecture. t ress. But a queer thing.¡± I feared noo ory. I endeavoured to recall o t. ¡°And this lady?¡± ¡°turned out to be Mr. Rocer¡¯s about in trangest t Mr. Rocer fell in¡ª¡± ¡°But ted. ¡°I¡¯m coming to t, ma¡¯am¡ªt Mr. Eds say ter inually. to cs ore on everyt tle small t like a c I¡¯ve ell of er forty, and t ty; and you see, ched. ell, he would marry her.¡± ¡°You sell me t of tory anotime,¡± I said; ¡°but no suspected t tic, Mrs. Rocer, ?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve it, ma¡¯am: it¡¯s quite certain t it it going. So take care of rust for one fault¡ªa fault common to a deal of trons¡ªs a private bottle of gin by ook a drop over-muc is excusable, for s: but still it er ter, tcake t of , let of t came into I don¡¯t kno t. , s fire first to t doo a loorey, and made o t ters e at t, fortunately. ter soug precious te savage on ment: dangerous after oo. Mrs. Fairfax, to a distance; but tled an annuity on ¡ªs to scance ry, and s at the hall.¡± ¡°! did leave England?¡± ¡°Leave England? Bless you, no! cross tones of t at nig like a g about t is my opinion ed, bolder, keener gentleman t midge of a governess crossed a man given to hornfield hall.¡± ¡°ter ?¡± ¡°Yes, indeed o ttics s out of t back to get of to sanding, lements, and sing out till t streaming against tood. I nessed, and several more nessed, Mr. Rocer ascend t on to t minute s.¡± ¡°Dead?¡± ¡°Dead! Ay, dead as tones on wtered.¡± ¡°Good God!¡± ¡°You may ful!¡± he shuddered. ¡°And afterwards?¡± I urged. ¡°ell, ma¡¯am, after to ts of anding now.¡± ¡°ere any ot?¡± ¡°No¡ªper er if there had.¡± ¡° do you mean?¡± ¡°Poor Mr. Edtle t ever to ! Some say it judgment on marriage secret, and ing to take anot I pity .¡± ¡°You said he was alive?¡± I exclaimed. ¡°Yes, yes: many tter he dead.¡± ¡°hy? how?¡± My blood was again running cold. ¡°here is he?¡± I demanded. ¡°Is he in England?¡± ¡°Ay¡ªay¡ª get out of England, I fancy¡ªure now.¡± agony o protract it. ¡°one-blind,¡± last. ¡°Yes, one-blind, is Mr. Edward.¡± I rengto ask w y. ¡°It ill every one else before staircase at last, after Mrs. Rocer tlements, t crasaken out from under t sadly : a beam o protect ly; but one eye , and one Mr. Carter, to amputate it directly. t t of t also. he is now helpless, indeed¡ªblind and a cripple.¡± ¡°here is he? here does he now live?¡± ¡°At Ferndean, a manor- ty miles off: quite a desolate spot.¡± ¡°h him?¡± ¡°Old Joe broken dohey say.¡± ¡° of conveyance?¡± ¡°e have a chaise, ma¡¯am, a very handsome chaise.¡± ¡°Let it be got ready instantly; and if your post-boy can drive me to Ferndean before dark the hire you usually demand.¡± Chapter 37 tiquity, moderate size, and no arcectural pretensions, deep buried in a en spoke of it, and sometimes tate for t t could find no tenant, in consequence of its ineligible and insalubrious site. Ferndean ted and unfurnision of some tted up for tion of t to s. to t ere dark on an evening marked by teristics of sad sky, cold gale, and continued small penetrating rain. t mile I performed on foot, ion I distance of t, so timber of t it. Iron gates bete pillars so enter, and passing t once in track descending t aisle bety ss and under branc, expecting soon to reac it stretc ation or grounds was visible. I t I aken a ion and lost my ural as erem, columnar trunk, dense summer foliage¡ªno opening anywhere. I proceeded: at last my rees ttle; presently I be, distinguisrees; so dank and green s decaying ering a portal, fastened only by a latcood amidst a space of enclosed ground, from , and t in t. ted ted gables in its front; tticed and narro door oo, one step led up to it. t of ter Arms e a desolate spot.¡± It ill as a ctering rain on t leaves s vicinage. ¡°Can there be life here?¡± I asked. Yes, life of some kind t¡ªt narro-door o issue from the grange. It opened slo into tep; a man a : retco feel er, Edher. I stayed my step, almost my breatood to co examine o ing, and one in raining my voice from exclamation, my step from y advance. rong and stal contour as ever: ill erect, ill raven black; nor ered or sunk: not in one year¡¯s space, by any sorrorengted. But in enance I sae and brooding¡ªt reminded me of some tered or bird, dangerous to approacy inguis look as looked t sightless Samson. And, reader, do you ty?¡ªif you do, you little kno soon I so drop a kiss on t broernly sealed beneat: but not yet. I accost . ep, and advanced sloo. ride no urn. ed raining effort, on tore of trees: one sa all to retc arm, tilated one, o vacancy still; for trees and mute in t on t Joer. ¡°ill you take my arm, sir?¡± better go in?¡± ¡°Let me alone,¡± he answer. Jo er noried to : vainly,¡ªall oo uncertain. o tering it, closed the door. I now drew near and knocked: John¡¯s wife opened for me. ¡°Mary,¡± I said, ¡°how are you?¡± Sarted as if s: I calmed o really you, miss, come at te o taking o tc by a good fire. I explained to t I t I o see Mr. Rocer. I asked Joo go doo turn-pike-runk, and sioned Mary as to t; and finding t arrangements to t effect, t, be impossible, I informed ay. Just at t the parlour-bell rang. ¡°ell your master t a person o do not give my name.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think he will see you,¡± she answered; ¡°he refuses everybody.¡± urned, I inquired er, and place it on a tray, togeth candles. ¡°Is t w he rang for?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes: in at dark, though he is blind.¡± ¡°Give tray to me; I in.¡± I took it from ed me out tray s; ter spilt from t struck my ribs loud and fast. Mary opened t it behind me. ted loe; and, leaning over it, ed against telpiece, appeared tenant of t, lay on one side, removed out of tently trodden upon. Pilot pricked up oray from my it on table; tted ly, ¡°Lie dourned meco see ion as urned and sighed. ¡°Give me ter, Mary,¡± he said. I approac folloill excited. ¡° is tter?¡± he inquired. ¡°Do!¡± I again said. er on its o o listen: t not?¡± ¡°Mary is in tchen,¡± I answered. out ure, but not seeing oucrying, as it seemed, to SEE less eyes¡ª unavailing and distressing attempt! ¡°Answer me¡ªspeak again!¡± he ordered, imperiously and aloud. ¡°ill you tle more er, sir? I spilt he glass,¡± I said. ¡°? is it? ho speaks?¡± ¡°Pilot knows me, and Johis evening,¡± I answered. ¡°Great God!¡ª madness has seized me?¡± ¡°No delusion¡ªno madness: your mind, sir, is too strong for delusion, your oo sound for frenzy.¡± ¡°And I must feel, or my op and my brain burst. ever¡ªo touc live!¡± ed in both mine. ¡° fingers! If so t be more of her.¡± tody; my arm o him. ¡°Is it Jane? is it? this is her size¡ª¡± ¡°And t, too. God bless you, sir! I am glad to be so near you again.¡± ¡°Jane Eyre!¡ªJane Eyre,¡± was all he said. ¡°My dear master,¡± I anso you.¡± ¡°In truthe flesh? My living Jane?¡± ¡°You touc enoug cold like a corpse, nor vacant like air, am I?¡± ¡°My living darling! tainly ures; but I cannot be so blest, after all my misery. It is a dream; suc nigo my , as I do no srusted t s leave me.¡± ¡°his day.¡± ¡°Never I al an empty mockery; and I e and abandoned¡ªmy life dark, lonely, and forbidden to drink¡ªmy famiso be fed. Gentle, soft dream, nestling in my arms nooo, as your sisters kiss me before you go¡ªembrace me, Jane.¡± ¡°there!¡±¡¯ I pressed my lips to and no too. o arouse ion of ty of all this seized him. ¡°It is you¡ªis it, Jane? You are come back to me then?¡± ¡°I am.¡± ¡°And you do not lie dead in some ditcream? And you are not a pining outcast amongst strangers?¡± ¡°No, sir! I am an independent woman now.¡± ¡°Independent! do you mean, Jane?¡± ¡°My uncle in Madeira is dead, and me five thousand pounds.¡± ¡°Aical¡ªt. Besides, t peculiar voice of ing and piquant, as : it c; it puts life into it.¡ª, Janet! Are you an independent woman? A rich woman?¡± ¡°If you let me live o your door, and you may come and sit in my parlour w company of an evening.¡± ¡°But as you are ric, friends suffer you to devote yourself to a blind lameter like me?¡± ¡°I told you I am independent, sir, as well as ricress.¡± ¡°And you ay h me?¡± ¡°Certainly¡ªunless you object. I o you, to o sit o on you, to be eyes and o you. Cease to look so melancer; you s be left desolate, so long as I live.¡± : racted; o speak: a little embarrassed. Peroo rasionalities; and . Joy in my inconsiderateness. I o be ation, not tain because unexpressed, once as no to t effect escaping enance becoming more overcast, I suddenly remembered t I migtingly; and I began gently to ched me closer. ¡°No¡ªno¡ªJane; you must not go. No¡ªI ouc t of your presence¡ªtness of your consolation: I cannot give up ttle left in myself¡ªI must it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it isfied, or it ake deadly vengeance on its frame.¡± ¡°ell, sir, I ay h you: I have said so.¡± ¡°Yes¡ªbut you understand one taying and anoto be about my o on me as a kind little nurse (for you ionate and a generous spirit, o make sacrifices for ty), and t ougo suffice for me no doubt. I suppose I sertain none but fatell me.¡± ¡°I you like, sir: I am content to be only your nurse, if you t better.¡± ¡°But you cannot al: you are young¡ªyou must marry one day.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care about being married.¡± ¡°You s: if I ry to make you care¡ªbut¡ªa sightless block!¡± o gloom. I, on trary, became more cook fres y quite relieved from my previous embarrassment. I resumed a livelier vein of conversation. ¡°It is time some one undertook to reing locks; ¡°for I see you are being metamorpo a lion, or somet sort. You you, t is certain: your , I yet noticed.¡± ¡°On tilated limb from , and s to me. ¡°It is a mere stump¡ªa gly sig you think so, Jane?¡± ¡°It is a pity to see it; and a pity to see your eyes¡ªand t of it is, one is in danger of loving you too oo much of you.¡± ¡°I t you ed, Jane, wrised visage.¡± ¡°Did you? Don¡¯t tell me so¡ªlest I so your judgment. No me leave you an instant, to make a better fire, and up. Can you tell where is a good fire?¡± ¡°Yes; eye I see a glow¡ªa ruddy haze.¡± ¡°And you see the candles?¡± ¡°Very dimly¡ªeach is a luminous cloud.¡± ¡°Can you see me?¡± ¡°No, my fairy: but I am only too to hear and feel you.¡± ¡°ake supper?¡± ¡°I never take supper.¡± ¡°But you so-nig.¡± Summoning Mary, I soon able repast. My spirits ed, and alked to ime after. traint, no repressing of glee and vivacity perfect ease, because I kneed o console or revive ful consciousness! It brougo life and ligure: in s softened and warmed. After supper, o ask me many questions, of I gave ial replies: it oo late to enter into particulars t nigo touco open no fresion in : my sole present aim o c but by fits. If a moment¡¯s silence broke tion, urn restless, touchen say, ¡°Jane.¡± ¡°You are altogetain of t?¡± ¡°I conscientiously believe so, Mr. Rocer.¡± ¡°Yet retco take a glass of er from a ion, expecting Joo ans my ear.¡± ¡°Because I ead, ray.¡± ¡°And tment in tell ing not in day; feeling but tion of cold , of to eat: and t times, a very delirium of desire to beoration I longed, far more t of my lost sig be t Jane is depart as suddenly as so-morrow, I fear I shall find her no more.¡± A commonplace, practical reply, out of train of urbed ideas, and most reassuring for t I hem grow as broad and black as ever. ¡° spirit, al moment, you me¡ªpassing like a so me unknoerwards undiscoverable? ¡°-comb about you, sir?¡± ¡° for, Jane?¡± ¡°Just to comb out t alk of my being a fairy, but I am sure, you are more like a brownie.¡± ¡°Am I hideous, Jane?¡± ¡°Very, sir: you always were, you know.¡± ¡° been taken out of you, wherever you have sojourned.¡± ¡°Yet I ter times better people; possessed of ideas and vieertained in your life: quite more refined and exalted.¡± ¡°h?¡± ¡°If you t in t of your o entertain doubts of my substantiality.¡± ¡°h, Jane?¡± ¡°You s get it out of me to-nig till to-morroo leave my tale old, of security t I s your breakfast table to finis. By t mind not to rise on your er t bring an egg at t, to say nothing of fried ham.¡± ¡°You mocking c felt t he harp.¡± ¡°t. No tired. Good night.¡± ¡°Just one he house where you have been?¡± I laugill laugairs. ¡°A good idea!¡± I t ting of ime to come.¡± Very early t morning I ir, o anotion: ¡°Is Miss Eyre o? as it dry? Is ss anything; and when she will come down.¡± I came do t of breakfast. Entering tly, I o ness tion of t vigorous spirit to a corporeal infirmity. in ill, but not at rest: expectant evidently; tual sadness marking rong features. enance reminded one of a lamp quencing to be re-lit¡ª and alas! it could nore of animated expression: on anot office! I to be gay and careless, but trong man touc to till I accosted vivacity I could. ¡°It is a brigender ser it: you shall have a walk soon.¡± I ures beamed. ¡°Oo me. You are not gone: not vanis its song rated in my Jane¡¯s tongue to my ear (I am glad it is not naturally a silent one): all the sunshine I can feel is in her presence.¡± ter stood in my eyes to as if a royal eagle, co a perco entreat a sparroo become its purveyor. But I be lac drops, and busied myself . Most of t in t of t and o some co ly green t a seat for , a dry stump of a tree; nor did I refuse to let ed, place me on ? Pilot lay beside us: all . suddenly while clasping me in his arms¡ª ¡°Cruel, cruel deserter! O did I feel ment, ascertained t you aken no money, nor anyt! A pearl necklace I oucs little casket; your trunks corded and locked as tour. could my darling do, I asked, left destitute and penniless? And w did s me hear now.¡± tive of my experience for t year. I softened considerably ed to tarvation, because to old o inflict unnecessary pain: ttle I did say lacerated deeper than I wished. I s any means of making my ion. I so be ress. Violent as rutoo oo tenderly to constitute yrant: une, demanding so mucurn, ratain, more to him. ¡°ell, o tell Moor ained tress, amp;c. tune, tions, follo. Joly in tale. name ely taken up. ¡°t. Johen, is your cousin?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You en: do you like him?¡± ¡° help liking him.¡± ¡°A good man. Does t mean a respectable ed man of fifty? Or mean?¡± ¡°St Joy-nine, sir.¡± ¡°¡®Jeune encore,¡¯ as tature, pic, and plain. A person lessness of vice, tue.¡± ¡°iringly active. Great and exalted deeds are w o perform.¡± ¡°But is probably rat? you so alk?¡± ¡°alks little, sir: . -rate, I s impressible, but vigorous.¡± ¡°Is hen?¡± ¡°truly able.¡± ¡°A ted man?¡± ¡°St. John is an accomplished and profound scholar.¡± ¡° to your taste?¡ªpriggish and parsonic?¡± ¡°I never mentioned , unless I aste, t suit it; tlemanlike.¡± ¡° ion you gave of of rae, rangled e neckclotilted up on hick-soled high-lows, eh?¡± ¡°St. Joall, fair, h blue eyes, and a Grecian profile.¡± (Aside.) ¡°Damn o me.) ¡°Did you like him, Jane?¡± ¡°Yes, Mr. Rocer, I liked you asked me t before.¡± I perceived, of course, t of my interlocutor. Jealousy ung ting ary: it gave e from t, tely che snake. ¡°Per sit any longer on my knee, Miss Eyre?¡± someed observation. ¡°, Mr. Rocer?¡± ¡°ture you draive of a ratoo over. Your tily a graceful Apollo: to your imagination,¡ªtall, fair, blue-eyed, and o the bargain.¡± ¡°I never t of it, before; but you certainly are rather like Vulcan, sir.¡± ¡°ell, you can leave me, ma¡¯am: but before you go¡± (and ained me by a firmer grasp t to ansion or two.¡± he paused. ¡° questions, Mr. Rocer?¡± tion. ¡°St. Joress of Morton before he knew you were his cousin?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You en see times?¡± ¡°Daily.¡± ¡°alented creature!¡± ¡°hem¡ªyes.¡± ¡° ed to find? Some of your accompliss are not ordinary.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t kno t.¡± ¡°You tle cottage near to see you?¡± ¡°Nohen?¡± ¡°Of an evening?¡± ¡°Once or twice.¡± A pause. ¡°ers after the cousinship was discovered?¡± ¡°Five months.¡± ¡°Did Rivers spend mucime he ladies of his family?¡± ¡°Yes; tudy and ours: near table.¡± ¡°Did udy much?¡± ¡°A good deal.¡± ¡°?¡± ¡°anee.¡± ¡°And ime?¡± ¡°I learnt German, at first.¡± ¡°Did each you?¡± ¡° understand German.¡± ¡°Did eaching?¡± ¡°A little anee.¡± ¡°Rivers tauganee?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°And ers also?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Only you?¡± ¡°Only me.¡± ¡°Did you ask to learn?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°o teach you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± A second pause. ¡°? Of o you?¡± ¡°ended me to go o India.¡± ¡°A of tter. ed you to marry him?¡± ¡°o marry him.¡± ¡°t is a fiction¡ªan impudent invention to vex me.¡± ¡°I beg your pardon, it is teral trutiff about urging as ever you could be.¡± ¡°Miss Eyre, I repeat it, you can leave me. en am I to say tinaciously percice to quit?¡± ¡°Because I am comfortable there.¡± ¡°No, Jane, you are not comfortable t is not is . Joill t, I t my little Jane om of s in mucter. Long as ears as I over our separation, I never t t is useless grieving. Jane, leave me: go and marry Rivers.¡± ¡°S leave you of my own accord.¡± ¡°Jane, I ever like your tone of voice: it still renerut, it carries me back a year. I forget t you ie. But I am not a fool¡ªgo¡ª¡± ¡° I go, sir?¡± ¡°Your ohe husband you have chosen.¡± ¡°?¡± ¡°You kno. John Rivers.¡± ¡° my love me: I do not love is not as you love) a beautiful young lady called Rosamond. ed to marry me only because I sable missionary¡¯s severe; and, for me, cold as an iceberg. like you, sir: I am not tractive in me; not even youtal points.¡ªt leave you, sir, to go to him?¡± I sarily, and clung instinctively closer to my blind but beloved master. he smiled. ¡°, Jane! Is true? Is sucate of matters between you and Rivers?¡± ¡°Absolutely, sir! O be jealous! I ed to tease you a little to make you less sad: I t anger ter t if you see ent. All my is yours, sir: it belongs to you; and e to exile t of me from your presence for ever.¡± Again, as s darkened . ¡°My scared vision! My crippled strengtfully. I caressed, in order to soot ed to speak for dared not. As urned aside e, I saear slide from under trickle do swelled. ¡°I am no better tning-struck cnut-tree in t rig ruin o bid a budding s decay h freshness?¡± ¡°You are no ruin, sir¡ªno ligruck tree: you are green and vigorous. Plants your roots, ake deligiful sorengthem so safe a prop.¡± Again . ¡°You speak of friends, Jane?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes, of friends,¡± I ansatingly: for I kne more t could not tell o employ. he helped me. ¡°A I a wife.¡± ¡°Do you, sir?¡± ¡°Yes: is it neo you?¡± ¡°Of course: you said not it before.¡± ¡°Is it unwelcome news?¡± ¡°t depends on circumstances, sir¡ªon your choice.¡± ¡°hich you shall make for me, Jane. I will abide by your decision.¡± ¡°C.¡± ¡°I least c. Jane, will you marry me?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°A poor blind man, by the hand?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°A crippled man, ty years older to on?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°truly, Jane?¡± ¡°Most truly, sir.¡± ¡°Oh! my darling! God bless you and reward you!¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer, if ever I did a good deed in my life¡ªif ever I t a good t¡ªif ever I prayed a sincere and blameless prayer¡ªif ever I o be as h.¡± ¡°Because you delight in sacrifice.¡± ¡°Sacrifice! do I sacrifice? Famine for food, expectation for content. to be privileged to put my arms round o press my lips to o repose on rust: is t to make a sacrifice? If so, tainly I delight in sacrifice.¡± ¡°And to bear ies, Jane: to overlook my deficiencies.¡± ¡°o me. I love you better noate of proud independence, t of tector.¡± ¡°o I ed to be o be led: e it no more. I did not like to put my o a it is pleasant to feel it circled by Jane¡¯s little fingers. I preferred utter loneliness to tant attendance of servants; but Jane¡¯s soft ministry ual joy. Jane suits me: do I suit her?¡± ¡°to t fibre of my nature, sir.¡± ¡°to for: be married instantly.¡± uosity was rising. ¡°e must become one fles any delay, Jane: t to get¡ªthen we marry.¡± ¡°Mr. Rocer, I discovered ts meridian, and Pilot is actually gone o me look at your ch.¡± ¡°Fasten it into your girdle, Janet, and keep it .¡± ¡°It is nearly four o¡¯clock in ternoon, sir. Don¡¯t you feel hungry?¡± ¡°t be our is not h a fillip.¡± ¡°till: it is quite .¡± ¡°Do you knole pearl necklace at t fastened round my bronze scrag under my cravat? I since t my only treasure, as a memento of her.¡± ¡°e way.¡± s heeding me. ¡°Jane! you t my situde to t God of t no far clearer: judges not as man judges, but far more on its purity: tent snatc from me. I, in my stiff-necked rebellion, almost cursed tion: instead of bending to t. Divine justice pursued its course; disasters came to pass tisements are mige me no over to foreign guidance, as a cs e, Jane¡ªonly¡ªonly of late¡ªI began to see and acknoo experience remorse, repentance; t to my Maker. I began sometimes to pray: very brief prayers t very sincere. ¡°Some days since: nay, I can number t Monday nig since I could noe t nig migired to my dreary rest, I supplicated God, t, if it seemed good to soon be taken from tted to t o come, will hope of rejoining Jane. ¡°I ting by t sooto feel t-air; tars and only by a vague, luminous ! O once in anguisy, if I been long enouge, afflicted, tormented; and mig soon taste bliss and peace once more. t I merited all I endured, I ackno I could scarcely endure more, I pleaded; and t¡¯s he words¡ª¡®Jane! Jane! Jane!¡¯¡± ¡°Did you speak these words aloud?¡± ¡°I did, Jane. If any listener me mad: I pronounced tic energy.¡± ¡°And it Monday nig?¡± ¡°Yes; but time is of no consequence: range point. You itious,¡ªsome superstition I rue¡ª true at least it is t I I noe. ¡°As I exclaimed ¡®Jane! Jane! Jane!¡¯ a voice¡ªI cannot tell for me;¡¯ and a moment after, whe words¡ª¡®here are you?¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ll tell you, if I can, ture to my mind: yet it is difficult to express to express. Ferndean is buried, as you see, in a ing. ¡® mountains; for I ec t t to visit my broing. In spirit, I believe . You no doubt t s cell to comfort mine; for ts¡ªas certain as I live¡ªthey were yours!¡± Reader, it I too erious summons: to it. I listened to Mr. Rocer¡¯s narrative, but made no disclosure in return. truck me as too ao be communicated or discussed. If I told anytale mind, yet from its sufferings too prone to gloom, needed not tural. I kept t. ¡°You cannot noinued my master, ¡°t nigy in believing you any ot to silence and anniion, as t to be othank God!¡± me off ly lifting from less eyes to tood in mute devotion. Only t he worship were audible. ¡°I t, in t of judgment, reat my Redeemer to give me strengto lead o!¡± tretc to be led. I took t dear a moment to my lips, t it pass round my sature tered the wood, and wended homeward. Chapter 38¡ªCONCLUSION Reader, I married o tche knives, and I said¡ª ¡°Mary, I o Mr. Rocer t decent pic order of people, to ime safely communicate a remarkable piece of ne incurring tion, and subsequently stunned by a torrent of . Mary did look up, and sare at me: ting a pair of cing at tes ime Jo from t Mary, bending again over t, said only¡ª ¡°have you, Miss? ell, for sure!¡± A s time after s er, but I didn¡¯t knoo co be o o ear. ¡°I telled Mary en gave ian name)¡ª¡°I kneain long neit, for augely pulled his forelock. ¡°ter told me to give you and Mary t into e. it ing to tc sanctum some time after, I caughe words¡ª ¡°Ster for ¡¯ grand ladies.¡± And again, ¡°If s one o¡¯ t, sured; and i¡¯ iful, onybody may see t.¡± I e to Moor o Cambridge immediately, to say ep unreservedly. Diana announced t s give me time to get over then she would come and see me. ¡°Ster not till ter, o oo late, for our s beams will only fade over your grave or mine.¡± . Jo knoer in : yet six monter e to me, , ioning Mr. Rocer¡¯s name or alluding to my marriage. ter ained a regular, t frequent, correspondence ever since: rusts I am not of t God in things. You quite forgotten little Ad¨¨le, ; I soon asked and obtained leave of Mr. Rocer, to go and see tic joy at be ablis oo strict, its course of study too severe for a cook to become I soon found ticable; my time and cares out a sced on a more indulgent system, and near enougo permit of my visiting en, and bringing imes. I took care s for anyt could contribute to : stled in udies. As sion corrected in a great measure s; and tention to me and mine, stle kindness I ever in my poo offer her. My tale drao its close: one ing my experience of married life, and one brief glance at tunes of t frequently recurred in tive, and I have done. I en years. I kno is to live entirely for and I love best on eart¡ªblest beyond ely bone of y: ion of t t beats in our separate bosoms; consequently, ogeto be togeto be at once as free as in solitude, as gay as in company. e talk, I believe, all day long: to talk to eac a more animated and an audible too me; ed in cer¡ªperfect concord is t. Mr. Rocer continued blind t t circumstance t dre knit us so very close: for I ill erally, I ure¡ªting into of field, tree, to ligamp on o ing o go: of doing for o be done. And t full, most exquisite, even t painful sion. ruly, t ance in profiting by my attendance: I loved to yield t attendance o indulge my sest wishes. One morning at ting a letter to ation, over me, and said¡ª¡°Jane, tering ornament round your neck?¡± I ch-chain: I answered ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And have you a pale blue dress on?¡± I for some time y clouding one eye now . up to London. oculist; and ually recovered t of t one eye. noinctly: read or e muc being led by to - born into ted , and black. On t occasion, , ackno God empered judgment h mercy. My Ed love are ernately, once every year, to see us, and o see tain in t officer and a good man. Mary¡¯s is a clergyman, a college friend of tainments and principles, ion. Botain Fitzjames and Mr. on love them. As to St. Jo England: to India. ered on t still. A more resolute, indefatigable pioneer never ed, full of energy, and zeal, and truto improvement; te t encumber it. ern; ing; ious yet; but ernness of t, le, ake up ion of ter-spirit, rank of tand fault before t migories of thful. St. Joo sufficed to toil, and toil dras close: ens to its setting. t letter I received from ears, and yet filled my icipated ible cro a stranger¡¯s e to me next, to say t t lengto t. Jo ed, eadfast. his¡ª ¡°My Master,¡± inctly,¡ª¡®Surely I come quickly!¡¯ and hourly I more eagerly respond,¡ª¡®Amen; even so come, Lord Jesus!¡¯¡±