No More Learning

She and Mr. Rochester sang a duet. "

"Mr. Rochester? I was not aware he could sing. "

"Oh! he has a fine bass voice, and an excellent taste for music. "

"And Miss Ingram: what sort of a voice had she? "

"A very rich and powerful one: she sang delightfully; it was a treat to
listen to her;--and she played afterwards. I am no judge of music, but
Mr. Rochester is; and I heard him say her execution was remarkably good. "

"And this beautiful and accomplished lady, she is not yet married? "

"It appears not: I fancy neither she nor her sister have very large
fortunes. Old Lord Ingram's estates were chiefly entailed, and the
eldest son came in for everything almost. "

"But I wonder no wealthy nobleman or gentleman has taken a fancy to her:
Mr. Rochester, for instance. He is rich, is he not? "

"Oh! yes. But you see there is a considerable difference in age: Mr.
Rochester is nearly forty; she is but twenty-five. "

"What of that? More unequal matches are made every day. "

"True: yet I should scarcely fancy Mr. Rochester would entertain an idea
of the sort. But you eat nothing: you have scarcely tasted since you
began tea. "

"No: I am too thirsty to eat. Will you let me have another cup? "

I was about again to revert to the probability of a union between Mr.
Rochester and the beautiful Blanche; but Adele came in, and the
conversation was turned into another channel.

When once more alone, I reviewed the information I had got; looked into
my heart, examined its thoughts and feelings, and endeavoured to bring
back with a strict hand such as had been straying through imagination's
boundless and trackless waste, into the safe fold of common sense.

Arraigned at my own bar, Memory having given her evidence of the hopes,
wishes, sentiments I had been cherishing since last night--of the general
state of mind in which I had indulged for nearly a fortnight past; Reason
having come forward and told, in her own quiet way a plain, unvarnished
tale, showing how I had rejected the real, and rabidly devoured the
ideal;--I pronounced judgment to this effect:--

That a greater fool than Jane Eyre had never breathed the breath of life;
that a more fantastic idiot had never surfeited herself on sweet lies,
and swallowed poison as if it were nectar.

"_You_," I said, "a favourite with Mr. Rochester? _You_ gifted with the
power of pleasing him? _You_ of importance to him in any way? Go! your
folly sickens me. And you have derived pleasure from occasional tokens
of preference--equivocal tokens shown by a gentleman of family and a man
of the world to a dependent and a novice. How dared you? Poor stupid
dupe! --Could not even self-interest make you wiser? You repeated to
yourself this morning the brief scene of last night? --Cover your face and
be ashamed! He said something in praise of your eyes, did he? Blind
puppy! Open their bleared lids and look on your own accursed
senselessness! It does good to no woman to be flattered by her superior,
who cannot possibly intend to marry her; and it is madness in all women
to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and
unknown, must devour the life that feeds it; and, if discovered and
responded to, must lead, _ignis-fatus_-like, into miry wilds whence there
is no extrication.

"Listen, then, Jane Eyre, to your sentence: to-morrow, place the glass
before you, and draw in chalk your own picture, faithfully, without
softening one defect; omit no harsh line, smooth away no displeasing
irregularity; write under it, 'Portrait of a Governess, disconnected,
poor, and plain. '

"Afterwards, take a piece of smooth ivory--you have one prepared in your
drawing-box: take your palette, mix your freshest, finest, clearest
tints; choose your most delicate camel-hair pencils; delineate carefully
the loveliest face you can imagine; paint it in your softest shades and
sweetest lines, according to the description given by Mrs. Fairfax of
Blanche Ingram; remember the raven ringlets, the oriental eye;--What! you
revert to Mr. Rochester as a model! Order! No snivel! --no sentiment! --no
regret! I will endure only sense and resolution. Recall the august yet
harmonious lineaments, the Grecian neck and bust; let the round and
dazzling arm be visible, and the delicate hand; omit neither diamond ring
nor gold bracelet; portray faithfully the attire, aerial lace and
glistening satin, graceful scarf and golden rose; call it 'Blanche, an
accomplished lady of rank. '

"Whenever, in future, you should chance to fancy Mr. Rochester thinks
well of you, take out these two pictures and compare them: say, 'Mr.
Rochester might probably win that noble lady's love, if he chose to
strive for it; is it likely he would waste a serious thought on this
indigent and insignificant plebeian? '"

"I'll do it," I resolved: and having framed this determination, I grew
calm, and fell asleep.

I kept my word. An hour or two sufficed to sketch my own portrait in
crayons; and in less than a fortnight I had completed an ivory miniature
of an imaginary Blanche Ingram. It looked a lovely face enough, and when
compared with the real head in chalk, the contrast was as great as self-
control could desire. I derived benefit from the task: it had kept my
head and hands employed, and had given force and fixedness to the new
impressions I wished to stamp indelibly on my heart.

Ere long, I had reason to congratulate myself on the course of wholesome
discipline to which I had thus forced my feelings to submit. Thanks to
it, I was able to meet subsequent occurrences with a decent calm, which,
had they found me unprepared, I should probably have been unequal to
maintain, even externally.




CHAPTER XVII


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 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; 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 desert-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, &c. 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, &c. "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 back-stairs 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-bye, 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 prendrie 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 candle-light 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 mamma; 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
ear; 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.