Thislaneinclinedup—hillallthewaytoHay;havingreachedthemiddle，Isatdownonastilewhichledthenceintoafield。Gatheringmymantleaboutme，andshelteringmyhandsinmymuff，Ididnotfeelthecold，thoughitfrozekeenly;aswasattestedbyasheetoficecoveringthecauseway，wherealittlebrooklet，nowcongealed，hadoverflowedafterarapidthawsomedayssince。FrommyseatIcouldlookdownonThornfield:thegreyandbattlementedhallwastheprincipalobjectinthevalebelowme;itswoodsanddarkrookeryroseagainstthewest。Ilingeredtillthesunwentdownamongstthetrees，andsankcrimsonandclearbehindthem。Ithenturnedeastward。
Onthehill—topabovemesattherisingmoon;paleyetasacloud，butbrighteningmomentarily，shelookedoverHay，which，halflostintrees，sentupabluesmokefromitsfewchimneys:itwasyetamiledistant，butintheabsolutehushIcouldhearplainlyitsthinmurmursoflife。Myear，too，felttheflowofcurrents;inwhatdalesanddepthsIcouldnottell:butthereweremanyhillsbeyondHay，anddoubtlessmanybecksthreadingtheirpasses。Thateveningcalmbetrayedalikethetinkleoftheneareststreams，thesoughofthemostremote。
Arudenoisebrokeonthesefineripplingsandwhisperings，atoncesofarawayandsoclear:apositivetramp，tramp，ametallicclatter，whicheffacedthesoftwave—wanderings;as，inapicture，thesolidmassofacrag，ortheroughbolesofagreatoak，drawnindarkandstrongontheforeground，effacetheaerialdistanceofazurehill，sunnyhorizon，andblendedcloudswheretintmeltsintotint。
Thedinwasonthecauseway:ahorsewascoming;thewindingsofthelaneyethidit，butitapproached。Iwasjustleavingthestile;yet，asthepathwasnarrow，Isatstilltoletitgoby。InthosedaysIwasyoung，andallsortsoffanciesbrightanddarktenantedmymind:thememoriesofnurserystorieswerethereamongstotherrubbish;andwhentheyrecurred，maturingyouthaddedtothemavigourandvividnessbeyondwhatchildhoodcouldgive。Asthishorseapproached，andasIwatchedforittoappearthroughthedusk，IrememberedcertainofBessie’stales，whereinfiguredaNorth—of—Englandspiritcalleda“Gytrash，”which，intheformofhorse，mule，orlargedog，hauntedsolitaryways，andsometimescameuponbelatedtravellers，asthishorsewasnowcominguponme。
Itwasverynear，butnotyetinsight;when，inadditiontothetramp，tramp，Iheardarushunderthehedge，andclosedownbythehazelstemsglidedagreatdog，whoseblackandwhitecolourmadehimadistinctobjectagainstthetrees。ItwasexactlyoneformofBessie’sGytrash—alion—likecreaturewithlonghairandahugehead:itpassedme，however，quietlyenough;notstayingtolookup，withstrangepretercanineeyes，inmyface，asIhalfexpecteditwould。Thehorsefollowed，—atallsteed，andonitsbackarider。Theman，thehumanbeing，brokethespellatonce。NothingeverrodetheGytrash:itwasalwaysalone;andgoblins，tomynotions，thoughtheymighttenantthedumbcarcassesofbeasts，couldscarcecovetshelterinthecommonplacehumanform。NoGytrashwasthis，—onlyatravellertakingtheshortcuttoMillcote。Hepassed，andIwenton;afewsteps，andIturned:aslidingsoundandanexclamationof“Whatthedeuceistodonow？”andaclatteringtumble，arrestedmyattention。Manandhorseweredown;theyhadslippedonthesheetoficewhichglazedthecauseway。Thedogcameboundingback，andseeinghismasterinapredicament，andhearingthehorsegroan，barkedtilltheeveninghillsechoedthesound，whichwasdeepinproportiontohismagnitude。Hesnuffedroundtheprostrategroup，andthenheranuptome;itwasallhecoulddo，—therewasnootherhelpathandtosummon。Iobeyedhim，andwalkeddowntothetraveller，bythistimestrugglinghimselffreeofhissteed。Hiseffortsweresovigorous，Ithoughthecouldnotbemuchhurt;butIaskedhimthequestion—
“Areyouinjured，sir？”
Ithinkhewasswearing，butamnotcertain;however，hewaspronouncingsomeformulawhichpreventedhimfromreplyingtomedirectly。
“CanIdoanything？”Iaskedagain。
“Youmustjuststandononeside，”heansweredasherose，firsttohisknees，andthentohisfeet。Idid;whereuponbeganaheaving，stamping，clatteringprocess，accompaniedbyabarkingandbayingwhichremovedmeeffectuallysomeyards’distance;butIwouldnotbedrivenquiteawaytillIsawtheevent。Thiswasfinallyfortunate;thehorsewasre—established，andthedogwassilencedwitha“Down，Pilot！”Thetravellernow，stooping，felthisfootandleg，asiftryingwhethertheyweresound;apparentlysomethingailedthem，forhehaltedtothestilewhenceIhadjustrisen，andsatdown。
Iwasinthemoodforbeinguseful，oratleastofficious，Ithink，forInowdrewnearhimagain。
“Ifyouarehurt，andwanthelp，sir，IcanfetchsomeoneeitherfromThornfieldHallorfromHay。”
“Thankyou:Ishalldo:Ihavenobrokenbones，—onlyasprain;”andagainhestoodupandtriedhisfoot，buttheresultextortedaninvoluntary“Ugh！”
Somethingofdaylightstilllingered，andthemoonwaswaxingbright:Icouldseehimplainly。Hisfigurewasenvelopedinaridingcloak，furcollaredandsteelclasped;itsdetailswerenotapparent，butItracedthegeneralpointsofmiddleheightandconsiderablebreadthofchest。Hehadadarkface，withsternfeaturesandaheavybrow;hiseyesandgatheredeyebrowslookedirefulandthwartedjustnow;hewaspastyouth，buthadnotreachedmiddle—age;perhapshemightbethirty—five。Ifeltnofearofhim，andbutlittleshyness。Hadhebeenahandsome，heroic—lookingyounggentleman，Ishouldnothavedaredtostandthusquestioninghimagainsthiswill，andofferingmyservicesunasked。Ihadhardlyeverseenahandsomeyouth;neverinmylifespokentoone。Ihadatheoreticalreverenceandhomageforbeauty，elegance，gallantry，fascination;buthadImetthosequalitiesincarnateinmasculineshape，Ishouldhaveknowninstinctivelythattheyneitherhadnorcouldhavesympathywithanythinginme，andshouldhaveshunnedthemasonewouldfire，lightning，oranythingelsethatisbrightbutantipathetic。
Ifeventhisstrangerhadsmiledandbeengood—humouredtomewhenIaddressedhim;ifhehadputoffmyofferofassistancegailyandwiththanks，Ishouldhavegoneonmywayandnotfeltanyvocationtorenewinquiries:butthefrown，theroughnessofthetraveller，setmeatmyease:Iretainedmystationwhenhewavedtometogo，andannounced—
“Icannotthinkofleavingyou，sir，atsolateanhour，inthissolitarylane，tillIseeyouarefittomountyourhorse。”
HelookedatmewhenIsaidthis;hehadhardlyturnedhiseyesinmydirectionbefore。
“Ishouldthinkyououghttobeathomeyourself，”saidhe，“ifyouhaveahomeinthisneighbourhood:wheredoyoucomefrom？”
“Fromjustbelow;andIamnotatallafraidofbeingoutlatewhenitismoonlight:IwillrunovertoHayforyouwithpleasure，ifyouwishit:indeed，Iamgoingtheretopostaletter。”
“Youlivejustbelow—doyoumeanatthathousewiththebattlements？”pointingtoThornfieldHall，onwhichthemooncastahoarygleam，bringingitoutdistinctandpalefromthewoodsthat，bycontrastwiththewesternsky，nowseemedonemassofshadow。
“Yes，sir。”
“Whosehouseisit？”
“Mr。Rochester’s。”
“DoyouknowMr。Rochester？”
“No，Ihaveneverseenhim。”
“Heisnotresident，then？”
“No。”
“Canyoutellmewhereheis？”
“Icannot。”
“Youarenotaservantatthehall，ofcourse。Youare—”Hestopped，ranhiseyeovermydress，which，asusual，wasquitesimple:ablackmerinocloak，ablackbeaverbonnet;neitherofthemhalffineenoughforalady’s—maid。HeseemedpuzzledtodecidewhatIwas;Ihelpedhim。
“Iamthegoverness。”
“Ah，thegoverness！”herepeated;“deucetakeme，ifIhadnotforgotten！Thegoverness！”andagainmyraimentunderwentscrutiny。Intwominutesherosefromthestile:hisfaceexpressedpainwhenhetriedtomove。
“Icannotcommissionyoutofetchhelp，”hesaid;“butyoumayhelpmealittleyourself，ifyouwillbesokind。”
“Yes，sir。”
“YouhavenotanumbrellathatIcanuseasastick？”
“No。”
“Trytogetholdofmyhorse’sbridleandleadhimtome:youarenotafraid？”
Ishouldhavebeenafraidtotouchahorsewhenalone，butwhentoldtodoit，Iwasdisposedtoobey。Iputdownmymuffonthestile，andwentuptothetallsteed;Iendeavouredtocatchthebridle，butitwasaspiritedthing，andwouldnotletmecomenearitshead;Imadeeffortoneffort，thoughinvain:meantime，Iwasmortallyafraidofitstramplingfore—feet。Thetravellerwaitedandwatchedforsometime，andatlasthelaughed。
“Isee，”hesaid，“themountainwillneverbebroughttoMahomet，soallyoucandoistoaidMahomettogotothemountain;Imustbegofyoutocomehere。”
Icame。“Excuseme，”hecontinued:“necessitycompelsmetomakeyouuseful。”Helaidaheavyhandonmyshoulder，andleaningonmewithsomestress，limpedtohishorse。Havingoncecaughtthebridle，hemastereditdirectlyandsprangtohissaddle;grimacinggrimlyashemadetheeffort，foritwrenchedhissprain。
“Now，”saidhe，releasinghisunderlipfromahardbite，“justhandmemywhip;itliesthereunderthehedge。”
Isoughtitandfoundit。
“Thankyou;nowmakehastewiththelettertoHay，andreturnasfastasyoucan。”
Atouchofaspurredheelmadehishorsefirststartandrear，andthenboundaway;thedogrushedinhistraces;allthreevanished，
“Likeheaththat，inthewilderness，
Thewildwindwhirlsaway。”
Itookupmymuffandwalkedon。Theincidenthadoccurredandwasgoneforme:itwasanincidentofnomoment，noromance，nointerestinasense;yetitmarkedwithchangeonesinglehourofamonotonouslife。Myhelphadbeenneededandclaimed;Ihadgivenit:Iwaspleasedtohavedonesomething;trivial，transitorythoughthedeedwas，itwasyetanactivething，andIwaswearyofanexistenceallpassive。Thenewface，too，waslikeanewpictureintroducedtothegalleryofmemory;anditwasdissimilartoalltheothershangingthere:firstly，becauseitwasmasculine;and，secondly，becauseitwasdark，strong，andstern。IhaditstillbeforemewhenIenteredHay，andslippedtheletterintothepost—office;IsawitasIwalkedfastdown—hillallthewayhome。WhenIcametothestile，Istoppedaminute，lookedroundandlistened，withanideathatahorse’shoofsmightringonthecausewayagain，andthatariderinacloak，andaGytrash—likeNewfoundlanddog，mightbeagainapparent:Isawonlythehedgeandapollardwillowbeforeme，risingupstillandstraighttomeetthemoonbeams;IheardonlythefaintestwaftofwindroamingfitfulamongthetreesroundThornfield，amiledistant;andwhenIglanceddowninthedirectionofthemurmur，myeye，traversingthehall—front，caughtalightkindlinginawindow:itremindedmethatIwaslate，andIhurriedon。
Ididnotlikere—enteringThornfield。Topassitsthresholdwastoreturntostagnation;tocrossthesilenthall，toascendthedarksomestaircase，toseekmyownlonelylittleroom，andthentomeettranquilMrs。Fairfax，andspendthelongwintereveningwithher，andheronly，wastoquellwhollythefaintexcitementwakenedbymywalk，—toslipagainovermyfacultiestheviewlessfettersofanuniformandtoostillexistence;ofanexistencewhoseveryprivilegesofsecurityandeaseIwasbecomingincapableofappreciating。Whatgooditwouldhavedonemeatthattimetohavebeentossedinthestormsofanuncertainstrugglinglife，andtohavebeentaughtbyroughandbitterexperiencetolongforthecalmamidstwhichInowrepined！Yes，justasmuchgoodasitwoulddoamantiredofsittingstillina“tooeasychair”totakealongwalk:andjustasnaturalwasthewishtostir，undermycircumstances，asitwouldbeunderhis。
Ilingeredatthegates;Ilingeredonthelawn;Ipacedbackwardsandforwardsonthepavement;theshuttersoftheglassdoorwereclosed;Icouldnotseeintotheinterior;andbothmyeyesandspiritseemeddrawnfromthegloomyhouse—fromthegrey—hollowfilledwithraylesscells，asitappearedtome—tothatskyexpandedbeforeme，—ablueseaabsolvedfromtaintofcloud;themoonascendingitinsolemnmarch;herorbseemingtolookupassheleftthehill—tops，frombehindwhichshehadcome，farandfartherbelowher，andaspiredtothezenith，midnightdarkinitsfathomlessdepthandmeasurelessdistance;andforthosetremblingstarsthatfollowedhercourse;theymademyhearttremble，myveinsglowwhenIviewedthem。Littlethingsrecallustoearth;theclockstruckinthehall;thatsufficed;Iturnedfrommoonandstars，openedaside—door，andwentin。
Thehallwasnotdark，noryetwasitlit，onlybythehigh—hungbronzelamp;awarmglowsuffusedbothitandthelowerstepsoftheoakstaircase。Thisruddyshineissuedfromthegreatdining—room，whosetwo—leaveddoorstoodopen，andshowedagenialfireinthegrate，glancingonmarblehearthandbrassfire—irons，andrevealingpurpledraperiesandpolishedfurniture，inthemostpleasantradiance。Itrevealed，too，agroupnearthemantelpiece:Ihadscarcelycaughtit，andscarcelybecomeawareofacheerfulminglingofvoices，amongstwhichIseemedtodistinguishthetonesofAdèle，whenthedoorclosed。
IhastenedtoMrs。Fairfax’sroom;therewasafiretheretoo，butnocandle，andnoMrs。Fairfax。Instead，allalone，sittinguprightontherug，andgazingwithgravityattheblaze，Ibeheldagreatblackandwhitelong—haireddog，justliketheGytrashofthelane。ItwassolikeitthatIwentforwardandsaid—“Pilot”andthethinggotupandcametomeandsnuffedme。Icaressedhim，andhewaggedhisgreattail;buthelookedaneeriecreaturetobealonewith，andIcouldnottellwhencehehadcome。Irangthebell，forIwantedacandle;andIwanted，too，togetanaccountofthisvisitant。Leahentered。
“Whatdogisthis？”
“Hecamewithmaster。”
“Withwhom？”
“Withmaster—Mr。Rochester—heisjustarrived。”
“Indeed！andisMrs。Fairfaxwithhim？”
“Yes，andMissAdèle;theyareinthedining—room，andJohnisgoneforasurgeon;formasterhashadanaccident;hishorsefellandhisankleissprained。”
“DidthehorsefallinHayLane？”
“Yes，comingdown—hill;itslippedonsomeice。”
“Ah！BringmeacandlewillyouLeah？”
Leahbroughtit;sheentered，followedbyMrs。Fairfax，whorepeatedthenews;addingthatMr。Carterthesurgeonwascome，andwasnowwithMr。Rochester:thenshehurriedouttogiveordersabouttea，andIwentupstairstotakeoffmythings。
Chapter13
Mr。Rochester，itseems，bythesurgeon’sorders，wenttobedearlythatnight;nordidherisesoonnextmorning。Whenhedidcomedown，itwastoattendtobusiness:hisagentandsomeofhistenantswerearrived，andwaitingtospeakwithhim。
AdèleandIhadnowtovacatethelibrary:itwouldbeindailyrequisitionasareception—roomforcallers。Afirewaslitinanapartmentupstairs，andthereIcarriedourbooks，andarrangeditforthefutureschoolroom。IdiscernedinthecourseofthemorningthatThornfieldHallwasachangedplace:nolongersilentasachurch，itechoedeveryhourortwotoaknockatthedoor，oraclangofthebell;steps，too，oftentraversedthehall，andnewvoicesspokeindifferentkeysbelow;arillfromtheouterworldwasflowingthroughit;ithadamaster:formypart，Ilikeditbetter。
Adèlewasnoteasytoteachthatday;shecouldnotapply:shekeptrunningtothedoorandlookingoverthebanisterstoseeifshecouldgetaglimpseofMr。Rochester;thenshecoinedpretextstogodownstairs，inorder，asIshrewdlysuspected，tovisitthelibrary，whereIknewshewasnotwanted;then，whenIgotalittleangry，andmadehersitstill，shecontinuedtotalkincessantlyofher“ami，MonsieurEdouardFairfaxdeRochester，”asshedubbedhim（Ihadnotbeforeheardhisprenomens），andtoconjecturewhatpresentshehadbroughther:foritappearshehadintimatedthenightbefore，thatwhenhisluggagecamefromMillcote，therewouldbefoundamongstitalittleboxinwhosecontentsshehadaninterest。
“Etceladoitsignifier，”saidshe，“qu’ilyauralededansuncadeaupourmoi，etpeut—êtrepourvousaussi，mademoiselle。Monsieuraparledevous:ilm’ademandelenomdemagouvernante，etsiellen’etaitpasunepetitepersonne，assezminceetunpeupale。J’aiditqu’oui:carc’estvrai，n’est—cepas，mademoiselle？”
IandmypupildinedasusualinMrs。Fairfax’sparlour;theafternoonwaswildandsnowy，andwepasseditintheschoolroom。AtdarkIallowedAdèletoputawaybooksandwork，andtorundownstairs;for，fromthecomparativesilencebelow，andfromthecessationofappealstothedoor—bell，IconjecturedthatMr。Rochesterwasnowatliberty。Leftalone，Iwalkedtothewindow;butnothingwastobeseenthence:twilightandsnowflakestogetherthickenedtheair，andhidtheveryshrubsonthelawn。Iletdownthecurtainandwentbacktothefireside。
IntheclearembersIwastracingaview，notunlikeapictureIrememberedtohaveseenofthecastleofHeidelberg，ontheRhine，whenMrs。Fairfaxcamein，breakingupbyherentrancethefierymosaicIhadbeenpiercingtogether，andscatteringtoosomeheavyunwelcomethoughtsthatwerebeginningtothrongonmysolitude。
“Mr。Rochesterwouldbegladifyouandyourpupilwouldtaketeawithhiminthedrawing—roomthisevening，”saidshe:“hehasbeensomuchengagedalldaythathecouldnotasktoseeyoubefore。”
“Whenishistea—time？”Iinquired。
“Oh，atsixo’clock:hekeepsearlyhoursinthecountry。Youhadbetterchangeyourfrocknow;Iwillgowithyouandfastenit。Hereisacandle。”
“Isitnecessarytochangemyfrock？”
“Yes，youhadbetter:IalwaysdressfortheeveningwhenMr。Rochesterishere。”
Thisadditionalceremonyseemedsomewhatstately;however，Irepairedtomyroom，and，withMrs。Fairfax’said，replacedmyblackstuffdressbyoneofblacksilk;thebestandtheonlyadditionaloneIhad，exceptoneoflightgrey，which，inmyLowoodnotionsofthetoilette，Ithoughttoofinetobeworn，exceptonfirst—rateoccasions。
“Youwantabrooch，”saidMrs。Fairfax。IhadasinglelittlepearlornamentwhichMissTemplegavemeasapartingkeepsake:Iputiton，andthenwewentdownstairs。UnusedasIwastostrangers，itwasratheratrialtoappearthusformallysummonedinMr。Rochester’spresence。IletMrs。Fairfaxprecedemeintothedining—room，andkeptinhershadeaswecrossedthatapartment;and，passingthearch，whosecurtainwasnowdropped，enteredtheelegantrecessbeyond。
Twowaxcandlesstoodlightedonthetable，andtwoonthemantelpiece;baskinginthelightandheatofasuperbfire，layPilot—Adèlekneltnearhim。HalfreclinedonacouchappearedMr。Rochester，hisfootsupportedbythecushion;hewaslookingatAdèleandthedog:thefireshonefullonhisface。Iknewmytravellerwithhisbroadandjettyeyebrows;hissquareforehead，madesquarerbythehorizontalsweepofhisblackhair。Irecognisedhisdecisivenose，moreremarkableforcharacterthanbeauty;hisfullnostrils，denoting，Ithought，choler;hisgrimmouth，chin，andjaw—yes，allthreewereverygrim，andnomistake。Hisshape，nowdivestedofcloak，Iperceivedharmonisedinsquarenesswithhisphysiognomy:Isupposeitwasagoodfigureintheathleticsenseoftheterm—broadchestedandthinflanked，thoughneithertallnorgraceful。
Mr。RochestermusthavebeenawareoftheentranceofMrs。Fairfaxandmyself;butitappearedhewasnotinthemoodtonoticeus，forheneverliftedhisheadasweapproached。
“HereisMissEyre，sir，”saidMrs。Fairfax，inherquietway。Hebowed，stillnottakinghiseyesfromthegroupofthedogandchild。
“LetMissEyrebeseated，”saidhe:andtherewassomethingintheforcedstiffbow，intheimpatientyetformaltone，whichseemedfurthertoexpress，“WhatthedeuceisittomewhetherMissEyrebethereornot？AtthismomentIamnotdisposedtoaccosther。”
Isatdownquitedisembarrassed。Areceptionoffinishedpolitenesswouldprobablyhaveconfusedme:Icouldnothavereturnedorrepaiditbyansweringgraceandeleganceonmypart;butharshcapricelaidmeundernoobligation;onthecontrary，adecentquiescence，underthefreakofmanner，gavemetheadvantage。Besides，theeccentricityoftheproceedingwaspiquant:Ifeltinterestedtoseehowhewouldgoon。
Hewentonasastatuewould，thatis，heneitherspokenormoved。Mrs。Fairfaxseemedtothinkitnecessarythatsomeoneshouldbeamiable，andshebegantotalk。Kindly，asusual—and，asusual，rathertrite—shecondoledwithhimonthepressureofbusinesshehadhadallday;ontheannoyanceitmusthavebeentohimwiththatpainfulsprain:thenshecommendedhispatienceandperseveranceingoingthroughwithit。
“Madam，Ishouldlikesometea，”wasthesolerejoindershegot。Shehastenedtoringthebell;andwhenthetraycame，sheproceededtoarrangethecups，spoons，&c。，withassiduouscelerity。IandAdèlewenttothetable;butthemasterdidnotleavehiscouch。
“WillyouhandMr。Rochester’scup？”saidMrs。Fairfaxtome;“Adèlemightperhapsspillit。”
Ididasrequested。Ashetookthecupfrommyhand，Adèle，thinkingthemomentpropitiousformakingarequestinmyfavour，criedout—
“N’est—cepas，monsieur，qu’ilyauncadeaupourMademoiselleEyredansvotrepetitcoffre？”
“Whotalksofcadeaux？”saidhegruffly。“Didyouexpectapresent，MissEyre？Areyoufondofpresents？”andhesearchedmyfacewitheyesthatIsawweredark，irate，andpiercing。
“Ihardlyknow，sir;Ihavelittleexperienceofthem:theyaregenerallythoughtpleasantthings。”
“Generallythought？Butwhatdoyouthink？”
“Ishouldbeobligedtotaketime，sir，beforeIcouldgiveyouananswerworthyofyouracceptance:apresenthasmanyfacestoit，hasitnot？andoneshouldconsiderall，beforepronouncinganopinionastoitsnature。”
“MissEyre，youarenotsounsophisticatedasAdèle:shedemandsa‘cadeau，’clamorously，themomentsheseesme:youbeataboutthebush。”
“BecauseIhavelessconfidenceinmydesertsthanAdèlehas:shecanprefertheclaimofoldacquaintance，andtherighttooofcustom;forshesaysyouhavealwaysbeeninthehabitofgivingherplaythings;butifIhadtomakeoutacaseIshouldbepuzzled，sinceIamastranger，andhavedonenothingtoentitlemetoanacknowledgment。”
“Oh，don’tfallbackonover—modesty！IhaveexaminedAdèle，andfindyouhavetakengreatpainswithher:sheisnotbright，shehasnotalents;yetinashorttimeshehasmademuchimprovement。”
“Sir，youhavenowgivenmemy‘cadeau;’Iamobligedtoyou:itisthemeedteachersmostcovet—praiseoftheirpupils’progress。”
“Humph！”saidMr。Rochester，andhetookhisteainsilence。
“Cometothefire，”saidthemaster，whenthetraywastakenaway，andMrs。Fairfaxhadsettledintoacornerwithherknitting;whileAdèlewasleadingmebythehandroundtheroom，showingmethebeautifulbooksandornamentsontheconsolesandchiffonnieres。Weobeyed，asindutybound;Adèlewantedtotakeaseatonmyknee，butshewasorderedtoamuseherselfwithPilot。
“Youhavebeenresidentinmyhousethreemonths？”
“Yes，sir。”
“Andyoucamefrom—？”
“FromLowoodschool，in—shire。”
“Ah！acharitableconcern。Howlongwereyouthere？”
“Eightyears。”
“Eightyears！youmustbetenaciousoflife。Ithoughthalfthetimeinsuchaplacewouldhavedoneupanyconstitution！Nowonderyouhaveratherthelookofanotherworld。Imarvelledwhereyouhadgotthatsortofface。WhenyoucameonmeinHayLanelastnight，Ithoughtunaccountablyoffairytales，andhadhalfamindtodemandwhetheryouhadbewitchedmyhorse:Iamnotsureyet。Whoareyourparents？”
“Ihavenone。”
“Noreverhad，Isuppose:doyourememberthem？”
“No。”
“Ithoughtnot。Andsoyouwerewaitingforyourpeoplewhenyousatonthatstile？”
“Forwhom，sir？”
“Forthemeningreen:itwasapropermoonlighteveningforthem。DidIbreakthroughoneofyourrings，thatyouspreadthatdamnediceonthecauseway？”
Ishookmyhead。“ThemeningreenallforsookEnglandahundredyearsago，”saidI，speakingasseriouslyashehaddone。“AndnoteveninHayLane，orthefieldsaboutit，couldyoufindatraceofthem。Idon’tthinkeithersummerorharvest，orwintermoon，willevershineontheirrevelsmore。”
Mrs。Fairfaxhaddroppedherknitting，and，withraisedeyebrows，seemedwonderingwhatsortoftalkthiswas。
“Well，”resumedMr。Rochester，“ifyoudisownparents，youmusthavesomesortofkinsfolk:unclesandaunts？”
“No;nonethatIeversaw。”
“Andyourhome？”
“Ihavenone。”
“Wheredoyourbrothersandsisterslive？”
“Ihavenobrothersorsisters。”
“Whorecommendedyoutocomehere？”
“Iadvertised，andMrs。Fairfaxansweredmyadvertisement。”
“Yes，”saidthegoodlady，whonowknewwhatgroundwewereupon，“andIamdailythankfulforthechoiceProvidenceledmetomake。MissEyrehasbeenaninvaluablecompaniontome，andakindandcarefulteachertoAdèle。”
“Don’ttroubleyourselftogiveheracharacter，”returnedMr。Rochester:“eulogiumswillnotbiasme;Ishalljudgeformyself。Shebeganbyfellingmyhorse。”
“Sir？”saidMrs。Fairfax。
“Ihavetothankherforthissprain。”
Thewidowlookedbewildered。
“MissEyre，haveyoueverlivedinatown？”
“No，sir。”
“Haveyouseenmuchsociety？”
“NonebutthepupilsandteachersofLowood，andnowtheinmatesofThornfield。”
“Haveyoureadmuch？”
“Onlysuchbooksascameinmyway;andtheyhavenotbeennumerousorverylearned。”
“Youhavelivedthelifeofanun:nodoubtyouarewelldrilledinreligiousforms;—Brocklehurst，whoIunderstanddirectsLowood，isaparson，ishenot？”
“Yes，sir。”
“Andyougirlsprobablyworshippedhim，asaconventfullofreligieuseswouldworshiptheirdirector。”
“Oh，no。”
“Youareverycool！No！What！anovicenotworshipherpriest！Thatsoundsblasphemous。”
“IdislikedMr。Brocklehurst;andIwasnotaloneinthefeeling。Heisaharshman;atoncepompousandmeddling;hecutoffourhair;andforeconomy’ssakeboughtusbadneedlesandthread，withwhichwecouldhardlysew。”
“Thatwasveryfalseeconomy，”remarkedMrs。Fairfax，whonowagaincaughtthedriftofthedialogue。
“Andwasthattheheadandfrontofhisoffending？”demandedMr。Rochester。
“Hestarveduswhenhehadthesolesuperintendenceoftheprovisiondepartment，beforethecommitteewasappointed;andheboreduswithlonglecturesonceaweek，andwitheveningreadingsfrombooksofhisowninditing，aboutsuddendeathsandjudgments，whichmadeusafraidtogotobed。”
“WhatagewereyouwhenyouwenttoLowood？”
“Aboutten。”
“Andyoustayedthereeightyears:youarenow，then，eighteen？”
Iassented。
“Arithmetic，yousee，isuseful;withoutitsaid，Ishouldhardlyhavebeenabletoguessyourage。Itisapointdifficulttofixwherethefeaturesandcountenancearesomuchatvarianceasinyourcase。AndnowwhatdidyoulearnatLowood？Canyouplay？”
“Alittle。”
“Ofcourse:thatistheestablishedanswer。Gointothelibrary—Imean，ifyouplease。—（Excusemytoneofcommand;Iamusedtosay，‘Dothis，’anditisdone:Icannotaltermycustomaryhabitsforonenewinmate。）—Go，then，intothelibrary;takeacandlewithyou;leavethedooropen;sitdowntothepiano，andplayatune。”
Ideparted，obeyinghisdirections。
“Enough！”hecalledoutinafewminutes。“YouplayAlittle，Isee;likeanyotherEnglishschool—girl;perhapsratherbetterthansome，butnotwell。”
Iclosedthepianoandreturned。Mr。Rochestercontinued—“Adèleshowedmesomesketchesthismorning，whichshesaidwereyours。Idon’tknowwhethertheywereentirelyofyourdoing;probablyamasteraidedyou？”
“No，indeed！”Iinterjected。
“Ah！thatprickspride。Well，fetchmeyourportfolio，ifyoucanvouchforitscontentsbeingoriginal;butdon’tpassyourwordunlessyouarecertain:Icanrecognisepatchwork。”
“ThenIwillsaynothing，andyoushalljudgeforyourself，sir。”
Ibroughttheportfoliofromthelibrary。
“Approachthetable，”saidhe;andIwheeledittohiscouch。AdèleandMrs。Fairfaxdrewneartoseethepictures。
“Nocrowding，”saidMr。Rochester:“takethedrawingsfrommyhandasIfinishwiththem;butdon’tpushyourfacesuptomine。”
Hedeliberatelyscrutinisedeachsketchandpainting。Threehelaidaside;theothers，whenhehadexaminedthem，hesweptfromhim。
“Takethemofftotheothertable，Mrs。Fairfax，”saidhe，andlookatthemwithAdèle;—you”（glancingatme）“resumeyourseat，andanswermyquestions。Iperceivethosepicturesweredonebyonehand:wasthathandyours？”
“Yes。”
“Andwhendidyoufindtimetodothem？Theyhavetakenmuchtime，andsomethought。”
“IdidtheminthelasttwovacationsIspentatLowood，whenIhadnootheroccupation。”
“Wheredidyougetyourcopies？”
“Outofmyhead。”
“ThatheadIseenowonyourshoulders？”
“Yes，sir。”
“Hasitotherfurnitureofthesamekindwithin？”
“Ishouldthinkitmayhave:Ishouldhope—better。”
Hespreadthepicturesbeforehim，andagainsurveyedthemalternately。