A WEEK passed, and no news arrived of Mr. Rochester: ten days,

and still he did not come. Mrs. Fairfax said she should not be

surprised if he were to go straight from the Leas to London, and

thence to the Continent, and not show his face again at Thornfield for

a year to come; he had not unfrequently quitted it in a manner quite

as abrupt and unexpected. When I heard this, I was beginning to feel a

strange chill and failing at the heart. I was actually permitting

myself to experience a sickening sense of disappointment; but rallying

my wits, and recollecting my principles, I at once called my

sensations to order; and it was wonderful how I got over the temporary

blunder- how I cleared up the mistake of supposing Mr. Rochester's

movements a matter in which I had any cause to take a vital

interest. Not that I humbled myself by a slavish notion of

inferiority: on the contrary, I just said-

   'You have nothing to do with the master of Thornfield, further than

to receive the salary he gives you for teaching his protegee, and to

be grateful for such respectful and kind treatment as, if you do

your duty, you have a right to expect at his hands. Be sure that is

the only tie he seriously acknowledges between you and him; so don't

make him the object of your fine feelings, your raptures, agonies, and

so forth. He is not of your order: keep to your caste, and be too

self-respecting to lavish the love of the whole heart, soul, and

strength, where such a gift is not wanted and would be despised.'

   I went on with my day's business tranquilly; but ever and anon

vague suggestions kept wandering across my brain of reasons why I

should quit Thornfield; and I kept involuntarily framing

advertisements and pondering conjectures about new situations: these

thoughts I did not think it necessary to check; they might germinate

and bear fruit if they could.

   Mr. Rochester had been absent upwards of a fortnight, when the post

brought Mrs. Fairfax a letter.

   'It is from the master,' said she, as she looked at the

direction. 'Now I suppose we shall know whether we are to expect his

return or not.'

   And while she broke the seal and perused the document, I went on

taking my coffee (we were at breakfast): it was hot, and I

attributed to that circumstance a fiery glow which suddenly rose to my

face. Why my hand shook, and why I involuntarily spilt half the

contents of my cup into my saucer, I did not choose to consider.

   'Well, I sometimes think we are too quiet; but we run a chance of

being busy enough now: for a little while at least,' said Mrs.

Fairfax, still holding the note before her spectacles.

   Ere I permitted myself to request an explanation, I tied the string

of Adele's pinafore, which happened to be loose: having helped her

also to another bun and refilled her mug with milk, I said

nonchalantly-

   'Mr. Rochester is not likely to return soon, I suppose?'

   'Indeed he is- in three days, he says: that will be next

Thursday; and not alone either. I don't know how many of the fine

people at the Leas are coming with him: he sends directions for all

the best bedrooms to be prepared; and the library and drawing-rooms

are to be cleaned out; and I am to get more kitchen hands from the

George Inn, at Millcote, and from wherever else I can; and the

ladies will bring their maids and the gentlemen their valets: so we

shall have a full house of it.' And Mrs. Fairfax swallowed her

breakfast and hastened away to commence operations.

   The three days were, as she had foretold, busy enough. I had

thought all the rooms at Thornfield beautifully clean and well

arranged; but it appears I was mistaken. Three women were got to help;

and such scrubbing, such brushing, such washing of paint and beating

of carpets, such taking down and putting up of pictures, such

polishing of mirrors and lustres, such lighting of fires in

bedrooms, such airing of sheets and feather-beds on hearths, I never

beheld, either before or since. Adele ran quite wild in the midst of

it: the preparations for company and the prospect of their arrival,

seemed to throw her into ecstasies. She would have Sophie to look over

all her 'toilettes,' as she called frocks; to furbish up any that were

'passees,' and to air and arrange the new. For herself, she did

nothing but caper about in the front chambers, jump on and off the

bedsteads, and lie on the mattresses and piled-up bolsters and pillows

before the enormous fires roaring in the chimneys. From school

duties she was exonerated: Mrs. Fairfax had pressed me into her

service, and I was all day in the storeroom, helping (or hindering)

her and the cook; learning to make custards and cheese-cakes and

French pastry, to truss game and garnish dessert-dishes.

   The party were expected to arrive on Thursday afternoon, in time

for dinner at six. During the intervening period I had no time to

nurse chimeras; and I believe I was as active and gay as anybody-

Adele excepted. Still, now and then, I received a damping check to

my cheerfulness; and was, in spite of myself, thrown back on the

region of doubts and portents, and dark conjectures. This was when I

chanced to see the third-storey staircase door (which of late had

always been kept locked) open slowly, and give passage to the form

of Grace Poole, in prim cap, white apron, and handkerchief; when I

watched her glide along the gallery, her quiet tread muffled in a list

slipper; when I saw her look into the bustling, topsy-turvy bedrooms,-

just say a word, perhaps, to the charwoman about the proper way to

polish a grate, or clean a marble mantelpiece, or take stains from

papered walls, and then pass on. She would thus descend to the kitchen

once a day, eat her dinner, smoke a moderate pipe on the hearth, and

go back, carrying her pot of porter with her, for her private

solace, in her own gloomy, upper haunt. Only one hour in the

twenty-four did she pass with her fellow-servants below; all the

rest of her time was spent in some low-ceiled, oaken chamber of the

second storey: there she sat and sewed- and probably laughed

drearily to herself,- as companionless as a prisoner in his dungeon.

   The strangest thing of all was, that not a soul in the house,

except me, noticed her habits, or seemed to marvel at them: no one

discussed her position or employment; no one pitied her solitude or

isolation. I once, indeed, overheard part of a dialogue between Leah

and one of the charwomen, of which Grace formed the subject. Leah

had been saying something I had not caught, and the charwoman

remarked-

   'She gets good wages, I guess?'

   'Yes,' said Leah; 'I wish I had as good; not that mine are to

complain of,- there's no stinginess at Thornfield; but they're not one

fifth of the sum Mrs. Poole receives. And she is laying by: she goes

every quarter to the bank at Millcote. I should not wonder but she has

saved enough to keep her independent if she liked to leave; but I

suppose she's got used to the place; and then she's not forty yet, and

strong and able for anything. It is too soon for her to give up

business.'

   'She is a good hand, I daresay,' said the charwoman.

   'Ah!- she understands what she has to do,- nobody better,' rejoined

Leah significantly; 'and it is not every one could fill her shoes- not

for all the money she gets.'

   'That it is not!' was the reply. 'I wonder whether the master-'

   The charwoman was going on; but here Leah turned and perceived

me, and she instantly gave her companion a nudge.

   'Doesn't she know?' I heard the woman whisper.

   Leah shook her head, and the conversation was of course dropped.

All I had gathered from it amounted to this,- that there was a mystery

at Thornfield; and that from participation in that mystery I was

purposely excluded.

   Thursday came: all work had been completed the previous evening;

carpets were laid down, bed-hangings festooned, radiant white

counterpanes spread, toilet tables arranged, furniture rubbed, flowers

piled in vases: both chambers and saloons looked as fresh and bright

as hands could make them. The hall, too, was scoured; and the great

carved clock, as well as the steps and banisters of the staircase,

were polished to the brightness of glass; in the dining-room, the

sideboard flashed resplendent with plate; in the drawing-room and

boudoir, vases of exotics bloomed on all sides.

   Afternoon arrived: Mrs. Fairfax assumed her best black satin

gown, her gloves, and her gold watch; for it was her part to receive

the company,- to conduct the ladies to their rooms, etc. Adele, too,

would be dressed: though I thought she had little chance of being

introduced to the party that day at least. However, to please her, I

allowed Sophie to apparel her in one of her short, full muslin frocks.

For myself, I had no need to make any change; I should not be called

upon to quit my sanctum of the schoolroom; for a sanctum it was now

become to me,- 'a very pleasant refuge in time of trouble.'

   It had been a mild, serene spring day- one of those days which,

towards the end of March or the beginning of April, rise shining

over the earth as heralds of summer. It was drawing to an end now; but

the evening was even warm, and I sat at work in the schoolroom with

the window open.

   'It gets late,' said Mrs. Fairfax, entering in rustling state. 'I

am glad I ordered dinner an hour after the time Mr. Rochester

mentioned; for it is past six now. I have sent John down to the

gates to see if there is anything on the road: one can see a long

way from thence in the direction of Millcote.' She went to the window.

'Here he is!' said she. 'Well, John' (leaning out), 'any news?'

   'They're coming, ma'am,' was the answer. 'They'll be here in ten

minutes.'

   Adele flew to the window. I followed, taking care to stand on one

side, so that, screened by the curtain, I could see without being

seen.

   The ten minutes John had given seemed very long, but at last wheels

were heard; four equestrians galloped up the drive, and after them

came two open carriages. Fluttering veils and waving plumes filled the

vehicles; two of the cavaliers were young, dashing-looking

gentlemen; the third was Mr. Rochester, on his black horse, Mesrour,

Pilot bounding before him; at his side rode a lady, and he and she

were the first of the party. Her purple riding-habit almost swept the,

ground, her veil streamed long on the breeze; mingling with its

transparent folds, and gleaming through them, shone rich raven

ringlets.

   'Miss Ingram!' exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax, and away she hurried to

her post below.

   The cavalcade, following the sweep of the drive, quickly turned the

angle of the house, and I lost sight of it. Adele now petitioned to go

down; but I took her on my knee, and gave her to understand that she

must not on any account think of venturing in sight of the ladies,

either now or at any other time, unless expressly sent for: that Mr.

Rochester would be very angry, etc. 'Some natural tears she shed' on

being told this; but as I began to look very grave, she consented at

last to wipe them.

   A joyous stir was now audible in the hall: gentlemen's deep tones

and ladies' silvery accents blent harmoniously together, and

distinguishable above all, though not loud, was the sonorous voice

of the master of Thornfield Hall, welcoming his fair and gallant

guests under its roof. Then light steps ascended the stairs; and there

was a tripping through the gallery, and soft cheerful laughs, and

opening and closing doors, and, for a time, a hush.

   'Elles changent de toilettes,' said Adele; who, listening

attentively, had followed every movement; and she sighed.

   'Chez maman,' said she, 'quand il y avait du monde, je le suivais

partout, au salon et a leurs chambres; souvent je regardais les femmes

de chambre coiffer et habiller les dames, et c'etait si amusant: comme

cela on apprend.'

   'Don't you feel hungry, Adele?'

   'Mais oui, mademoiselle: voila cinq ou six heures que nous

n'avons pas mange.'

   'Well now, while the ladies are in their rooms, I will venture down

and get you something to eat.'

   And issuing from my asylum with precaution, I sought a backstairs

which conducted directly to the kitchen. All in that region was fire

and commotion; the soup and fish were in the last stage of projection,

and the cook hung over her crucibles in a frame of mind and body

threatening spontaneous combustion. In the servants' hall two coachmen

and three gentlemen's gentlemen stood or sat round the fire; the

abigails, I suppose, were upstairs with their mistresses; the new

servants, that had been hired from Millcote, were bustling about

everywhere. Threading this chaos, I at last reached the larder;

there I took possession of a cold chicken, a roll of bread, some

tarts, a plate or two and a knife and fork: with this booty I made a

hasty retreat. I had regained the gallery, and was just shutting the

back-door behind me, when an accelerated hum warned me that the ladies

were about to issue from their chambers. I could not proceed to the

schoolroom without passing some of their doors, and running the risk

of being surprised with my cargo of victualage; so I stood still at

this end, which, being windowless, was dark: quite dark now, for the

sun was set and twilight gathering.

   Presently the chambers gave up their fair tenants one after

another: each came out gaily and airily, with dress that gleamed

lustrous through the dusk. For a moment they stood grouped together at

the other extremity of the gallery, conversing in a key of sweet

subdued vivacity: they then descended the staircase almost as

noiselessly as a bright mist rolls down a hill. Their collective

appearance had left on me an impression of high-born elegance, such as

I had never before received.

   I found Adele peeping through the schoolroom door, which she held

ajar. 'What beautiful ladies!' cried she in English. 'Oh, I wish I

might go to them! Do you think Mr. Rochester will send for us by and

by, after dinner?'

   'No, indeed, I don't; Mr. Rochester has something else to think

about. Never mind the ladies to-night; perhaps you will see them

to-morrow: here is your dinner.'

   She was really hungry, so the chicken and tarts served to divert

her attention for a time. It was well I secured this forage, or both

she, I, and Sophie, to whom I conveyed a share of our repast, would

have run a chance of getting no dinner at all: every one downstairs

was too much engaged to think of us. The dessert was not carried out

till after nine, and at ten footmen were still running to and fro with

trays and coffee-cups. I allowed Adele to sit up much later than

usual; for she declared she could not possibly go to sleep while the

doors kept opening and shutting below, and people bustling about.

Besides, she added, a message might possibly come from Mr. Rochester

when she was undressed; 'et alors quel dommage!'

   I told her stories as long as she would listen to them; and then

for a change I took her out into the gallery. The hall lamp was now

lit, and it amused her to look over the balustrade and watch the

servants passing backwards and forwards. When the evening was far

advanced, a sound of music issued from the drawing-room, whither the

piano had been removed; Adele and I sat down on the top step of the

stairs to listen. Presently a voice blent with the rich tones of the

instrument; it was a lady who sang, and very sweet her notes were. The

solo over, a duet followed, and then a glee: a joyous conversational

murmur filled up the intervals. I listened long: suddenly I discovered

that my ear was wholly intent on analysing the mingled sounds, and

trying to discriminate amidst the confusion of accents those of Mr.

Rochester; and when it caught them, which it soon did, it found a

further task in framing the tones, rendered by distance

inarticulate, into words.

   The clock struck eleven. I looked at Adele, whose head leant

against my shoulder; her eyes were waxing heavy, so I took her up in

my arms and carried her off to bed. It was near one before the

gentlemen and ladies sought their chambers.

   The next day was as fine as its predecessor: it was devoted by

the party to an excursion to some site in the neighbourhood. They

set out early in the forenoon, some on horseback, the rest in

carriages; I witnessed both the departure and the return. Miss Ingram,

as before, was the only lady equestrian; and, as before, Mr. Rochester

galloped at her side; the two rode a little apart from the rest. I

pointed out this circumstance to Mrs. Fairfax, who was standing at the

window with me-

   'You said it was not likely they should think of being married,'

said I, 'but you see Mr. Rochester evidently prefers her to any of the

other ladies.'

   'Yes, I daresay: no doubt he admires her.'

   'And she him,' I added; 'look how she leans her head towards him as

if she were conversing confidentially; I wish I could see her face;

I have never had a glimpse of it yet.'

   'You will see her this evening,' answered Mrs. Fairfax. 'I happened

to remark to Mr. Rochester how much Adele wished to be introduced to

the ladies, and he said: "Oh! let her come into the drawing-room after

dinner; and request Miss Eyre to accompany her."'

   'Yes; he said that from mere politeness: I need not go, I am sure,'

I answered.

   'Well, I observed to him that as you were unused to company, I

did not think you would like appearing before so gay a party- all

strangers; and he replied, in his quick way- "Nonsense! If she

objects, tell her it is my particular wish; and if she resists, say

I shall come and fetch her in case of contumacy."'

   'I will not give him that trouble,' I answered. 'I will go, if no

better may be; but I don't like it. Shall you be there, Mrs. Fairfax?'

   'No; I pleaded off, and he admitted my plea. I'll tell you how to

manage so as to avoid the embarrassment of making a formal entrance,

which is the most disagreeable part of the business. You must go

into the drawing-room while it is empty, before the ladies leave the

dinner-table; choose your seat in any quiet nook you like; you need

not stay long after the gentlemen come in, unless you please: just let

Mr. Rochester see you are there and then slip away- nobody will notice

you.'

   'Will these people remain long, do you think?'

   'Perhaps two or three weeks, certainly not more. After the Easter

recess, Sir George Lynn, who was lately elected member for Millcote,

will have to go up to town and take his seat; I daresay Mr.

Rochester will accompany him: it surprises me that he has already made

so protracted a stay at Thornfield.'

   It was with some trepidation that I perceived the hour approach

when I was to repair with my charge to the drawing-room. Adele had

been in a state of ecstasy all day, after hearing she was to be

presented to the ladies in the evening; and it was not till Sophie

commenced the operation of dressing her that she sobered down. Then

the importance of the process quickly steadied her, and by the time

she had her curls arranged in well-smoothed, drooping clusters, her

pink satin frock put on, her long sash tied, and her lace mittens

adjusted, she looked as grave as any judge. No need to warn her not to

disarrange her attire: when she was dressed, she sat demurely down

in her little chair, taking care previously to lift up the satin skirt

for fear she should crease it, and assured me she would not stir

thence till I was ready. This I quickly was: my best dress (the

silver-grey one, purchased for Miss Temple's wedding, and never worn

since) was soon put on; my hair was soon smoothed; my sole ornament,

the pearl brooch, soon assumed. We descended.

   Fortunately there was another entrance to the drawing-room than

that through the saloon where they were all seated at dinner. We found

the apartment vacant; a large fire burning silently on the marble

hearth, and wax candles shining in bright solitude, amid the exquisite

flowers with which the tables were adorned. The crimson curtain hung

before the arch: slight as was the separation this drapery formed from

the party in the adjoining saloon, they spoke in so low a key that

nothing of their conversation could be distinguished beyond a soothing

murmur.

   Adele, who appeared to be still under the influence of a most

solemnising impression, sat down, without a word, on the footstool I

pointed out to her. I retired to a window-seat, and taking a book from

a table near, endeavoured to read. Adele brought her stool to my feet;

ere long she touched my knee.

   'What is it, Adele?'

   'Est-ce que je ne puis pas prendre une seule de ces fleurs

magnifiques, mademoiselle? Seulement pour completer ma toilette.'

   'You think too much of your "toilette," Adele: but you may have a

flower.' And I took a rose from a vase and fastened it in her sash.

She sighed a sigh of ineffable satisfaction, as if her cup of

happiness were now full. I turned my face away to conceal a smile I

could not suppress: there was something ludicrous as well as painful

in the little Parisienne's earnest and innate devotion to matters of

dress.

   A soft sound of rising now became audible; the curtain was swept

back from the arch; through it appeared the dining-room, with its

lit lustre pouring down light on the silver and glass of a magnificent

dessert-service covering a long table; a band of ladies stood in the

opening; they entered, and the curtain fell behind them.

   There were but eight; yet, somehow, as they flocked in, they gave

the impression of a much larger number. Some of them were very tall;

many were dressed in white; and all had a sweeping amplitude of

array that seemed to magnify their persons as a mist magnifies the

moon. I rose and curtseyed to them: one or two bent their heads in

return, the others only stared at me.

   They dispersed about the room, reminding me, by the lightness and

buoyancy of their movements, of a flock of white plumy birds. Some

of them threw themselves in half-reclining positions on the sofas

and ottomans: some bent over the tables and examined the flowers and

books: the rest gathered in a group round the fire: all talked in a

low but clear tone which seemed habitual to them. I knew their names

afterwards, and may as well mention them now.

   First, there was Mrs. Eshton and two of her daughters. She had

evidently been a handsome woman, and was well preserved still. Of

her daughters, the eldest, Amy, was rather little: naive, and

child-like in face and manner, and piquant in form; her white muslin

dress and blue sash became her well. The second, Louisa, was taller

and more elegant in figure; with a very pretty face, of that order the

French term minois chiffone: both sisters were fair as lilies.

   Lady Lynn was a large and stout personage of about forty, very

erect, very haughty-looking, richly dressed in a satin robe of

changeful sheen: her dark hair shone glossily under the shade of an

azure plume, and within the circlet of a band of gems.

   Mrs. Colonel Dent was less showy; but, I thought, more lady-like.

She had a slight figure, a pale, gentle face, and fair hair. Her black

satin dress, her scarf of rich foreign lace, and her pearl

ornaments, pleased me better than the rainbow radiance of the titled

dame.

   But the three most distinguished- partly, perhaps, because the

tallest figures of the band- were the Dowager Lady Ingram and her

daughters, Blanche and Mary. They were all three of the loftiest

stature of women. The Dowager might be between forty and fifty: her

shape was still fine; her hair (by candlelight at least) still

black; her teeth, too, were still apparently perfect. Most people

would have termed her a splendid woman of her age: and so she was,

no doubt, physically speaking; but then there was an expression of

almost insupportable haughtiness in her bearing and countenance. She

had Roman features and a double chin, disappearing into a throat

like a pillar: these features appeared to me not only inflated and

darkened, but even furrowed with pride; and the chin was sustained

by the same principle, in a position of almost preternatural

erectness. She had, likewise, a fierce and a hard eye: it reminded

me of Mrs. Reed's; she mouthed her words in speaking; her voice was

deep, its inflections very pompous, very dogmatical,- very

intolerable, in short. A crimson velvet robe, and a shawl turban of

some gold-wrought Indian fabric, invested her (I suppose she

thought) with a truly imperial dignity.

   Blanche and Mary were of equal stature,- straight and tall as

poplars. Mary was too slim for her height, but Blanche was moulded

like a Dian. I regarded her, of course, with special interest.

First, I wished to see whether her appearance accorded with Mrs.

Fairfax's description; secondly, whether it at all resembled the fancy

miniature I had painted of her; and thirdly- it will out!- whether

it were such as I should fancy likely to suit Mr. Rochester's taste.

   As far as person went, she answered point for point, both to my

picture and Mrs. Fairfax's description. The noble bust, the sloping

shoulders, the graceful neck, the dark eyes and black ringlets were

all there;- but her face? Her face was like her mother's; a youthful

unfurrowed likeness: the same low brow, the same high features, the

same pride. It was not, however, so saturnine a pride! she laughed

continually; her laugh was satirical, and so was the habitual

expression of her arched and haughty lip.

   Genius is said to be self-conscious. I cannot tell whether Miss

Ingram was a genius, but she was self-conscious- remarkably

self-conscious indeed. She entered into a discourse on botany with the

gentle Mrs. Dent. It seemed Mrs. Dent had not studied that science:

though, as she said, she liked flowers, 'especially wild ones'; Miss

Ingram had, and she ran over its vocabulary with an air. I presently

perceived she was (what is vernacularly termed) trailing Mrs. Dent;

that is, playing on her ignorance: her trail might be clever, but it

was decidedly not good-natured. She played: her execution was

brilliant; she sang, her voice was fine; she talked French apart to

her mama; and she talked it well, with fluency and with a good accent.

   Mary had a milder and more open countenance than Blanche; softer

features too, and a skin some shades fairer (Miss Ingram was dark as a

Spaniard)- but Mary was deficient in life: her face lacked expression,

her eye lustre; she had nothing to say, and having once taken her

seat, remained fixed like a statue in its niche. The sisters were both

attired in spotless white.

   And did I now think Miss Ingram such a choice as Mr. Rochester

would be likely to make? I could not tell- I did not know his taste in

female beauty. If he liked the majestic, she was the very type of

majesty: then she was accomplished, sprightly. Most gentlemen would

admire her, I thought; and that he did admire her, I already seemed to

have obtained proof: to remove the last shade of doubt, it remained

but to see them together.

   You are not to suppose, reader, that Adele has all this time been

sitting motionless on the stool at my feet: no; when the ladies

entered, she rose, advanced to meet them, made a stately reverence,

and said with gravity-

   'Bon jour, mesdames.'

   And Miss Ingram had looked down at her with a mocking air, and

exclaimed, 'Oh, what a little puppet!'

   Lady Lynn had remarked, 'It is Mr. Rochester's ward, I suppose- the

little French girl he was speaking of.'

   Mrs. Dent had kindly taken her hand, and given her a kiss. Amy

and Louisa Eshton had cried out simultaneously-

   'What a love of a child!'

   And then they had called her to a sofa, where she now sat,

ensconced between them, chattering alternately in French and broken

English; absorbing not only the young ladies' attention, but that of

Mrs. Eshton and Lady Lynn, and getting spoilt to her heart's content.

   At last coffee is brought in, and the gentlemen are summoned. I sit

in the shade- if any shade there be in this brilliantly-lit apartment;

the window-curtain half hides me. Again the arch yawns; they come. The

collective appearance of the gentlemen, like that of the ladies, is

very imposing: they are all costumed in black; most of them are

tall, some young. Henry and Frederick Lynn are very dashing sparks

indeed; and Colonel Dent is a fine soldierly man. Mr. Eshton, the

magistrate of the district, is gentleman-like: his hair is quite

white, his eyebrows and whiskers still dark, which gives him something

of the appearance of a 'pere noble de theatre.' Lord Ingram, like

his sisters, is very tall; like them, also, he is handsome; but he

shares Mary's apathetic and listless look: he seems to have more

length of limb than vivacity of blood or vigour of brain.

   And where is Mr. Rochester?

   He comes in last: I am not looking at the arch, yet I see him

enter. I try to concentrate my attention on those netting-needles,

on the meshes of the purse I am forming- I wish to think only of the

work I have in my hands, to see only the silver beads and silk threads

that lie in my lap; whereas, I distinctly behold his figure, and I

inevitably recall the moment when I last saw it; just after I had

rendered him, what he deemed, an essential service, and he, holding my

hand, and looking down on my face, surveyed me with eyes that revealed

a heart full and eager to overflow; in whose emotions I had a part.

How near had I approached him at that moment! What had occurred since,

calculated to change his and my relative positions? Yet now, how

distant, how far estranged we were! So far estranged, that I did not

expect him to come and speak to me. I did not wonder, when, without

looking at me, he took a seat at the other side of the room, and began

conversing with some of the ladies.

   No sooner did I see that his attention was riveted on them, and

that I might gaze without being observed, than my eyes were drawn

involuntarily to his face; I could not keep their lids under

control: they would rise, and the irids would fix on him. I looked,

and had an acute pleasure in looking,- a precious yet poignant

pleasure; pure gold, with a steely point of agony: a pleasure like

what the thirst-perishing man might feel who knows the well to which

he has crept is poisoned, yet stoops and drinks divine draughts

nevertheless.

   Most true is it that 'beauty is in the eye of the gazer.' My

master's colourless, olive face, square, massive brow, broad and jetty

eyebrows, deep eyes, strong features, firm, grim mouth,- all energy,

decision, will,- were not beautiful, according to rule; but they

were more than beautiful to me; they were full of an interest, an

influence that quite mastered me,- that took my feelings from my own

power and fettered them in his. I had not intended to love him; the

reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of

love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they

spontaneously arrived, green and strong! He made me love him without

looking at me.

   I compared him with his guests. What was the gallant grace of the

Lynns, the languid elegance of Lord Ingram,- even the military

distinction of Colonel Dent, contrasted with his look of native pith

and genuine power? I had no sympathy in their appearance, their

expression: yet I could imagine that most observers would call them

attractive, handsome, imposing; while they would pronounce Mr.

Rochester at once harsh-featured and melancholy-looking. I saw them

smile, laugh- it was nothing; the light of the candles had as much

soul in it as their smile; the tinkle of the bell as much significance

as their laugh. I saw Mr. Rochester smile:- his stern features

softened; his eye grew both brilliant and gentle, its ray both

searching and sweet. He was talking, at the moment, to Louisa and

Amy Eshton. I wondered to see them receive with calm that look which

seemed to me so penetrating: I expected their eyes to fall, their

colour to rise under it; yet I was glad when I found they were in no

sense moved. 'He is not to them what he is to me,' I thought: 'he is

not of their kind. I believe he is of mine;- I am sure he is- I feel

akin to him- I understand the language of his countenance and

movements: though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in

my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me

mentally to him. Did I say, a few days since, that I had nothing to do

with him but to receive my salary at his hands? Did I forbid myself to

think of him in any other light than as a paymaster? Blasphemy against

nature! Every good, true, vigorous feeling I have gathers

impulsively round him. I know I must conceal my sentiments: I must

smother hope; I must remember that he cannot care much for me. For

when I say that I am of his kind, I do not mean that I have his

force to influence, and his spell to attract; I mean only that I

have certain tastes and feelings in common with him. I must, then,

repeat continually that we are for ever sundered:- and yet, while I

breathe and think, I must love him.'

   Coffee is handed. The ladies, since the gentlemen entered, have

become lively as larks; conversation waxes brisk and merry. Colonel

Dent and Mr. Eshton argue on politics; their wives listen. The two

proud dowagers, Lady Lynn and Lady Ingram, confabulate together. Sir

George- whom, by the bye, I have forgotten to describe,- a very big,

and very fresh-looking country gentleman, stands before their sofa,

coffee-cup in hand, and occasionally puts in a word. Mr. Frederick

Lynn has taken a seat beside Mary Ingram, and is showing her the

engravings of a splendid volume: she looks, smiles now and then, but

apparently says little. The tall and phlegmatic Lord Ingram leans with

folded arms on the chair-back of the little and lively Amy Eshton; she

glances up at him, and chatters like a wren: she likes him better than

she does Mr. Rochester. Henry Lynn has taken possession of an

ottoman at the feet of Louisa: Adele shares it with him: he is

trying to talk French with her, and Louisa laughs at his blunders.

With whom will Blanche Ingram pair? She is standing alone at the

table, bending gracefully over an album. She seems waiting to be

sought; but she will not wait too long: she herself selects a mate.

   Mr. Rochester, having quitted the Eshtons, stands on the hearth

as solitary as she stands by the table: she confronts him, taking

her station on the opposite side of the mantelpiece.

   'Mr. Rochester, I thought you were not fond of children?'

   'Nor am I.'

   'Then, what induced you to take charge of such a little doll as

that?' (pointing to Adele). 'Where did you pick her up?'

   'I did not pick her up; she was left on my hands.'

   'You should have sent her to school.'

   'I could not afford it: schools are so dear.'

   'Why, I suppose you have a governess for her: I saw a person with

her just now- is she gone? Oh, no! there she is still, behind the

window-curtain. You pay her, of course; I should think it quite as

expensive,- more so; for you have them both to keep in addition.'

   I feared- or should I say, hoped?- the allusion to me would make

Mr. Rochester glance my way; and I involuntarily shrank farther into

the shade: but he never turned his eyes.

   'I have not considered the subject,' said he indifferently, looking

straight before him.

   'No, you men never do consider economy and common sense. You should

hear mama on the chapter of governesses: Mary and I have had, I should

think, a dozen at least in our day; half of them detestable and the

rest ridiculous, and all incubi- were they not, mama?'

   'Did you speak, my own?'

   The young lady thus claimed as the dowager's special property,

reiterated her question with an explanation.

   'My dearest, don't mention governesses; the word makes me

nervous. I have suffered a martyrdom from their incompetency and

caprice. I thank Heaven I have now done with them!'

   Mrs. Dent here bent over to the pious lady, and whispered something

in her car; I suppose, from the answer elicited, it was a reminder

that one of the anathematised race was present.

   'Tant pis!' said her ladyship, 'I hope it may do her good!' Then,

in a lower tone, but still loud enough for me to hear, 'I noticed her;

I am a judge of physiognomy, and in hers I see all the faults of her

class.'

   'What are they, madam?' inquired Mr. Rochester aloud.

   'I will tell you in your private ear,' replied she, wagging her

turban three times with portentous significancy.

   'But my curiosity will be past its appetite; it craves food now.'

   'Ask Blanche; she is nearer you than I.'

   'Oh, don't refer him to me, mama! I have just one word to say of

the whole tribe; they are a nuisance. Not that I ever suffered much

from them; I took care to turn the tables. What tricks Theodore and

I used to play on our Miss Wilsons, and Mrs. Greys, and Madame

Jouberts! Mary was always too sleepy to join in a plot with spirit.

The best fun was with Madame Joubert: Miss Wilson was a poor sickly

thing, lachrymose and low-spirited, not worth the trouble of

vanquishing, in short; and Mrs. Grey was coarse and insensible; no

blow took effect on her. But poor Madame Joubert! I see her yet in her

raging passions, when we had driven her to extremities- spilt our tea,

crumbled our bread and butter, tossed our books up to the ceiling, and

played a charivari with the ruler and desk, the fender and fire-irons.

Theodore, do you remember those merry days?'

   'Yaas, to be sure I do,' drawled Lord Ingram; 'and the poor old

stick used to cry out "Oh you villains childs!"- and then we

sermonised her on the presumption of attempting to teach such clever

blades as we were, when she was herself so ignorant.'

   'We did; and, Tedo, you know, I helped you in prosecuting (or

persecuting) your tutor, whey-faced Mr. Vining- the parson in the pip,

as we used to call him. He and Miss Wilson took the liberty of falling

in love with each other- at least Tedo and I thought so; we

surprised sundry tender glances and sighs which we interpreted as

tokens of "la belle passion," and I promise you the public soon had

the benefit of our discovery; we employed it as a sort of lever to

hoist our dead-weights from the house. Dear mama, there, as soon as

she got an inkling of the business, found out that it was of an

immoral tendency. Did you not, my lady-mother?'

   'Certainly, my best. And I was quite right: depend on that: there

are a thousand reasons why liaisons between governesses and tutors

should never be tolerated a moment in any well-regulated house;

firstly-'

   'Oh, gracious, mama! Spare us the enumeration! Au reste, we all

know them: danger of bad example to innocence of childhood;

distractions and consequent neglect of duty on the part of the

attached- mutual alliance and reliance; confidence thence resulting-

insolence accompanying- mutiny and general blowup. Am I right,

Baroness Ingram, of Ingram Park?'

   'My lily-flower, you are right now, as always.'

   'Then no more need be said: change the subject.'

   Amy Eshton, not hearing or not heeding this dictum, joined in

with her soft, infantine tone: 'Louisa and I used to quiz our

governess too; but she was such a good creature, she would bear

anything: nothing put her out. She was never cross with us; was she,

Louisa?'

   'No, never: we might do what we pleased; ransack her desk and her

workbox, and turn her drawers inside out; and she was so good-natured,

she would give us anything we asked for.'

   'I suppose, now,' said Miss Ingram, curling her lip

sarcastically, 'we shall have an abstract of the memoirs of all the

governesses extant: in order to avert such a visitation, I again

move the introduction of a new topic. Mr. Rochester, do you second

my motion?'

   'Madam, I support you on this point, as on every other.'

   'Then on me be the onus of bringing it forward. Signior Eduardo,

are you in voice to-night?'

   'Donna Bianca, if you command it, I will be.'

   'Then, signior, I lay on you my sovereign behest to furbish up your

lungs and other vocal organs, as they will be wanted on my royal

service.'

   'Who would not be the Rizzio of so divine a Mary?'

   'A fig for Rizzio!' cried she, tossing her head with all its curls,

as she moved to the piano. 'It is my opinion the fiddler David must

have been an insipid sort of fellow; I like black Bothwell better:

to my mind a man is nothing without a spice of the devil in him; and

history may say what it will of James Hepburn, but I have a notion, he

was just the sort of wild, fierce, bandit hero whom I could have

consented to gift with my hand.'

   'Gentlemen, you hear! Now which of you most resembles Bothwell?'

cried Mr. Rochester.

   'I should say the preference lies with you,' responded Colonel

Dent.

   'On my honour, I am much obliged to you,' was the reply.

   Miss Ingram, who had now seated herself with proud grace at the

piano, spreading out her snowy robes in queenly amplitude, commenced a

brilliant prelude; talking meantime. She appeared to be on her high

horse to-night; both her words and her air seemed intended to excite

not only the admiration, but the amazement of her auditors: she was

evidently bent on striking them as something very dashing and daring

indeed.

   'Oh, I am so sick of the young men of the present day!' exclaimed

she, rattling away at the instrument. 'Poor, puny things, not fit to

stir a step beyond papa's park gates: nor to go even so far without

mama's permission and guardianship! Creatures so absorbed in care

about their pretty faces, and their white hands, and their small feet;

as if a man had anything to do with beauty! As if loveliness were

not the special prerogative of woman- her legitimate appanage and

heritage! I grant an ugly woman is a blot on the fair face of

creation; but as to the gentlemen, let them be solicitous to possess

only strength and valour: let their motto be:- Hunt, shoot, and fight:

the rest is not worth a fillip. Such should be my device, were I a

man.'

   'Whenever I marry,' she continued after a pause which none

interrupted, 'I am resolved my husband shall not be a rival, but a

foil to me. I will suffer no competitor near the throne; I shall exact

an undivided homage: his devotions shall not be shared between me

and the shape he sees in his mirror. Mr. Rochester, now sing, and I

will play for you.'

   'I am all obedience,' was the response.

   'Here then is a Corsair-song. Know that I doat on Corsairs; and for

that reason, sing it con spirito.'

   'Commands from Miss Ingram's lips would put spirit into a mug of

milk and water.'

   'Take care, then: if you don't please me, I will shame you by

showing how such things should be done.'

   'That is offering a premium on incapacity: I shall now endeavour to

fail.'

   'Gardez-vous en bien! If you err wilfully, I shall devise a

proportionate punishment.'

   'Miss Ingram ought to be clement, for she has it in her power to

inflict a chastisement beyond mortal endurance.'

   'Ha! explain!' commanded the lady.

   'Pardon me, madam: no need of explanation; your own fine sense must

inform you that one of your frowns would be a sufficient substitute

for capital punishment.'

   'Sing!' said she, and again touching the piano, she commenced an

accompaniment in spirited style.

   'Now is my time to slip away,' thought I: but the tones that then

severed the air arrested me. Mrs. Fairfax had said Mr. Rochester

possessed a fine voice: he did- a mellow, powerful bass, into which he

threw his own feeling, his own force: finding a way through the ear to

the heart, and there waking sensation strangely. I waited till the

last deep and full vibration had expired- till the tide of talk,

checked an instant, had resumed its flow; I then quitted my

sheltered corner and made my exit by the side-door, which was

fortunately near. Thence a narrow passage led into the hall: in

crossing it, I perceived my sandal was loose; I stopped to tie it,

kneeling down for that purpose on the mat at the foot of the

staircase. I heard the dining-room door unclose; a gentleman came out;

rising hastily, I stood face to face with him: it was Mr. Rochester.

   'How do you do?' he asked.

   'I am very well, sir.'

   'Why did you not come and speak to me in the room?'

   I thought I might have retorted the question on him who put it: but

I would not take that freedom. I answered-

   'I did not wish to disturb you, as you seemed engaged, sir.'

   'What have you been doing during my absence?'

   'Nothing particular; teaching Adele as usual.'

   'And getting a good deal paler than you were- as I saw at first

sight. What is the matter?'

   'Nothing at all, sir.'

   'Did you take any cold that night you half drowned me?'

   'Not the least.'

   'Return to the drawing-room: you are deserting too early.'

   'I am tired, sir.'

   He looked at me for a minute.

   'And a little depressed,' he said. 'What about? Tell me.'

   'Nothing- nothing, sir. I am not depressed.'

   'But I affirm that you are: so much depressed that a few more words

would bring tears to your eyes- indeed, they are there now, shining

and swimming; and a bead has slipped from the lash and fallen on to

the flag. If I had time, and was not in mortal dread of some prating

prig of a servant passing, I would know what all this means. Well,

to-night I excuse you; but understand that so long as my visitors

stay, I expect you to appear in the drawing-room every evening; it

is my wish; don't neglect it. Now go, and send Sophie for Adele.

Good-night, my-' He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left me.