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rt；　but　harsh　caprice　laid　me　under　no　obligation；　on　the　contrary；　a　decent　quiescence；　under　the　freak　of　manner；　gave　me　the　advantage。　Besides；　the　eccentricity　of　the　proceeding　was　piquant：　I　felt　interested　to　see　how　he　would　go　on。
He　went　on　as　a　statue　would；　that　is；　he　neither　spoke　nor　moved。　Mrs。　Fairfax　seemed　to　think　it　necessary　that　some　one　should　be　amiable；　and　she　began　to　talk。　Kindly；　as　usual—and；　as　usual；　rather　trite—she　condoled　with　him　on　the　pressure　of　business　he　had　had　all　day；　on　the　annoyance　it　must　have　been　to　him　with　that　painful　sprain：　then　she　mended　his　patience　and　perseverance　in　going　through　with　it。
“Madam；　I　should　like　some　tea；”　was　the　sole　rejoinder　she　got。　She　hastened　to　ring　the　bell；　and　when　the　tray　came；　she　proceeded　to　arrange　the　cups；　spoons；　&c。；　with　assiduous　celerity。　I　and　Adèle　went　to　the　table；　but　the　master　did　not　leave　his　couch。
“Will　you　hand　Mr。　Rochester’s　cup？”　said　Mrs。　Fairfax　to　me；　“Adèle　might　perhaps　spill　it。”
I　did　as　requested。　As　he　took　the　cup　from　my　hand；　Adèle；　thinking　the　moment　propitious　for　making　a　request　in　my　favour；　cried　out—
“N’est…ce　pas；　monsieur；　qu’il　y　a　un　cadeau　pour　Mademoiselle　Eyre　dans　votre　petit　coffre？”
“Who　talks　of　cadeaux？”　said　he　gruffly。　“Did　you　expect　a　present；　Miss　Eyre？　Are　you　fond　of　presents？”　and　he　searched　my　face　with　eyes　that　I　saw　were　dark；　irate；　and　piercing。
“I　hardly　know；　sir；　I　have　little　experience　of　them：　they　are　generally　thought　pleasant　things。”
“Generally　thought？　But　what　do　you　think？”
“I　should　be　obliged　to　take　time；　sir；　before　I　could　give　you　an　answer　worthy　of　your　acceptance：　a　present　has　many　faces　to　it；　has　it　not？　and　one　should　consider　all；　before　pronouncing　an　opinion　as　to　its　nature。”
“Miss　Eyre；　you　are　not　so　unsophisticated　as　Adèle：　she　demands　a　‘cadeau；’　clamorously；　the　moment　she　sees　me：　you　beat　about　the　bush。”
“Because　I　have　less　confidence　in　my　deserts　than　Adèle　has：　she　can　prefer　the　claim　of　old　acquaintance；　and　the　right　too　of　custom；　for　she　says　you　have　always　been　in　the　habit　of　giving　her　playthings；　but　if　I　had　to　make　out　a　case　I　should　be　puzzled；　since　I　am　a　stranger；　and　have　done　nothing　to　entitle　me　to　an　acknowledgment。”
“Oh；　don’t　fall　back　on　over…modesty！　I　have　examined　Adèle；　and　find　you　have　taken　great　pains　with　her：　she　is　not　bright；　she　has　no　talents；　yet　in　a　short　time　she　has　made　much　improvement。”
“Sir；　you　have　now　given　me　my　‘cadeau；’　I　am　obliged　to　you：　it　is　the　meed　teachers　most　covet—praise　of　their　pupils’　progress。”
“Humph！”　said　Mr。　Rochester；　and　he　took　his　tea　in　silence。
“e　to　the　fire；”　said　the　master；　when　the　tray　was　taken　away；　and　Mrs。　Fairfax　had　settled　into　a　corner　with　her　knitting；　while　Adèle　was　leading　me　by　the　hand　round　the　room；　showing　me　the　beautiful　books　and　ornaments　on　the　consoles　and　chiffonnieres。　We　obeyed；　as　in　duty　bound；　Adèle　wanted　to　take　a　seat　on　my　knee；　but　she　was　ordered　to　amuse　herself　with　Pilot。
“You　have　been　resident　in　my　house　three　months？”
“Yes；　sir。”
“And　you　came　from—？”
“From　Lowood　school；　in—shire。”
“Ah！　a　charitable　concern。　How　long　were　you　there？”
“Eight　years。”
“Eight　years！　you　must　be　tenacious　of　life。　I　thought　half　the　time　in　such　a　place　would　have　done　up　any　constitution！　No　wonder　you　have　rather　the　look　of　another　world。　I　marvelled　where　you　had　got　that　sort　of　face。　When　you　came　on　me　in　Hay　Lane　last　night；　I　thought　unaccountably　of　fairy　tales；　and　had　half　a　mind　to　demand　whether　you　had　bewitched　my　horse：　I　am　not　sure　yet。　Who　are　your　parents？”
“I　have　none。”
“Nor　ever　had；　I　suppose：　do　you　remember　them？”
“No。”
“I　thought　not。　And　so　you　were　waiting　for　your　people　when　you　sat　on　that　stile？”
“For　whom；　sir？”
“For　the　men　in　green：　it　was　a　proper　moonlight　evening　for　them。　Did　I　break　through　one　of　your　rings；　that　you　spread　that　damned　ice　on　the　causeway？”
I　shook　my　head。　“The　men　in　green　all　forsook　England　a　hundred　years　ago；”　said　I；　speaking　as　seriously　as　he　had　done。　“And　not　even　in　Hay　Lane；　or　the　fields　about　it；　could　you　find　a　trace　of　them。　I　don’t　think　either　summer　or　harvest；　or　winter　moon；　will　ever　shine　on　their　revels　more。”
Mrs。　Fairfax　had　dropped　her　knitting；　and；　with　raised　eyebrows；　seemed　wondering　what　sort　of　talk　this　was。
“Well；”　resumed　Mr。　Rochester；　“if　you　disown　parents；　you　must　have　some　sort　of　kinsfolk：　uncles　and　aunts？”
“No；　none　that　I　ever　saw。”
“And　your　home？”
“I　have　none。”
“Where　do　your　brothers　and　sisters　live？”
“I　have　no　brothers　or　sisters。”
“Who　remended　you　to　e　here？”
“I　advertised；　and　Mrs。　Fairfax　answered　my　advertisement。”
“Yes；”　said　the　good　lady；　who　now　knew　what　ground　we　were　upon；　“and　I　am　daily　thankful　for　the　choice　Providence　led　me　to　make。　Miss　Eyre　has　been　an　invaluable　panion　to　me；　and　a　kind　and　careful　teacher　to　Adèle。”
“Don’t　trouble　yourself　to　give　her　a　character；”　returned　Mr。　Rochester：　“eulogiums　will　not　bias　me；　I　shall　judge　for　myself。　She　began　by　felling　my　horse。”
“Sir？”　said　Mrs。　Fairfax。
“I　have　to　thank　her　for　this　sprain。”
The　widow　looked　bewildered。
“Miss　Eyre；　have　you　ever　lived　in　a　town？”
“No；　sir。”
“Have　you　seen　much　society？”
“None　but　the　pupils　and　teachers　of　Lowood；　and　now　the　inmates　of　Thornfield。”
“Have　you　read　much？”
“Only　such　books　as　came　in　my　way；　and　they　have　not　been　numerous　or　very　learned。”
“You　have　lived　the　life　of　a　nun：　no　doubt　you　are　well　drilled　in　religious　forms；—Brocklehurst；　who　I　understand　directs　Lowood；　is　a　parson；　is　he　not？”
“Yes；　sir。”
“And　you　girls　probably　worshipped　him；　as　a　convent　full　of　religieuses　would　worship　their　director。”
“Oh；　no。”
“You　are　very　cool！　No！　What！　a　novice　not　worship　her　priest！　That　sounds　blasphemous。”
“I　disliked　Mr。　Brocklehurst；　and　I　was　not　alone　in　the　feeling。　He　is　a　harsh　man；　at　once　pompous　and　meddling；　he　cut　off　our　hair；　and　for　economy’s　sake　bought　us　bad　needles　and　thread；　with　which　we　could　hardly　sew。”
“That　was　very　false　economy；”　remarked　Mrs。　Fairfax；　who　now　again　caught　the　drift　of　the　dialogue。
“And　was　that　the　head　and　front　of　his　offending？”　demanded　Mr。　Rochester。
“He　starved　us　when　he　had　the　sole　superintendence　of　the　provision　department；　before　the　mittee　was　appointed；　and　he　bored　us　with　long　lectures　once　a　week；　and　with　evening　readings　from　books　of　his　own　inditing；　about　sudden　deaths　and　judgments；　which　made　us　afraid　to　go　to　bed。”
“What　age　were　you　when　you　went　to　Lowood？”
“About　ten。”
“And　you　stayed　there　eight　years：　you　are　now；　then；　eighteen？”
I　assented。
“Arithmetic；　you　see；　is　useful；　without　its　aid；　I　should　hardly　have　been　able　to　guess　your　age。　It　is　a　point　difficult　to　fix　where　the　features　and　countenance　are　so　much　at　variance　as　in　your　case。　And　now　what　did　you　learn　at　Lowood？　Can　you　play？”
“A　little。”
“Of　course：　that　is　the　established　answer。　Go　into　the　library—I　mean；　if　you　please。—（Excuse　my　tone　of　mand；　I　am　used　to　say；　‘Do　this；’　and　it　is　done：　I　cannot　alter　my　customary　habits　for　one　new　inmate。）—Go；　then；　into　the　library；　take　a　candle　with　you；　leave　the　door　open；　sit　down　to　the　piano；　and　play　a　tune。”
I　departed；　obeying　his　directions。
“Enough！”　he　called　out　in　a　few　minutes。　“You　play　A　little；　I　see；　like　any　other　English　school…girl；　perhaps　rather　better　than　some；　but　not　well。”
I　closed　the　piano　and　returned。　Mr。　Rochester　continued—“Adèle　showed　me　some　sketches　this　morning；　which　she　said　were　yours。　I　don’t　know　whether　they　were　entirely　of　your　doing；　probably　a　master　aided　you？”
“No；　indeed！”　I　interjected。
“Ah！　that　pricks　pride。　Well；　fetch　me　your　portfolio；　if　you　can　vouch　for　its　contents　being　original；　but　don’t　pass　your　word　unless　you　are　certain：　I　can　recognise　patchwork。”
“Then　I　will　say　nothing；　and　you　shall　judge　for　yourself；　sir。”
I　brought　the　portfolio　from　the　library。
“Approach　the　table；”　said　he；　and　I　wheeled　it　to　his　couch。　Adèle　and　Mrs。　Fairfax　drew　near　to　see　the　pictures。
“No　crowding；”　said　Mr。　Rochester：　“take　the　drawings　from　my　hand　as　I　finish　with　them；　but　don’t　push　your　faces　up　to　mine。”
He　deliberately　scrutinised　each　sketch　and　painting。　Three　he　laid　aside；　the　others；　when　he　had　examined　them；　he　swept　from　him。
“Take　them　off　to　the　other　table；　Mrs。　Fairfax；”　said　he；　and　look　at　them　with　Adèle；—you”　（glancing　at　me）　“resume　your　seat；　and　answer　my　questions。　I　perceive　those　pictures　were　done　by　one　hand：　was　that　hand　yours？”
“Yes。”
“And　when　did　you　find　time　to　do　them？　They　have　taken　much　time；　and　some　thought。”
“I　did　them　in　the　last　two　vacations　I　spent　at　Lowood；　when　I　had　no　other　occupation。”
“Where　did　you　get　your　copies？”
“Out　of　my　head。”
“That　head　I　see　now　on　your　shoulders？”
“Yes；　sir。”
“Has　it　other　furniture　of　the　same　kind　within？”
“I　should　think　it　may　have：　I　should　hope—better。”
He　spread　the　pictures　before　him；　and　again　surveyed　them　alternately。
While　he　is　so　occupied；　I　will　tell　you；　reader；　what　they　are：　and　first；　I　must　premise　that　they　are　nothing　wonderful。　The　subjects　had；　indeed；　risen　vividly　on　my　mind。　As　I　saw　them　with　the　spiritual　eye；　before　I　attempted　to　embody　them；　they　were　striking；　but　my　hand　would　not　second　my　fancy；　and　in　each　case　it　had　wrought　out　but　a　pale　portrait　of　the　thing　I　had　conceived。
These　pictures　were　in　water…colours。　The　first　represented　clouds　low　and　livid；　rolling　over　a　swollen　sea：　all　the　distance　was　in　eclipse；　so；　too；　was　the　foreground；　or　rather；　the　nearest　billows；　for　there　was　no　land。　One　gleam　of　light　lifted　into　relief　a　half…submerged　mast；　on　which　sat　a　cormorant；　dark　and　large；　with　wings　flecked　with　foam；　its　beak　held　a　gold　bracelet　set　with　gems；　that　I　had　touched　with　as　brilliant　tints　as　my　palette　could　yield；　and　as　glittering　distinctness　as　my　pencil　could　impart。　Sinking　below　the　bird　and　mast；　a　drowned　corpse　glanced　through　the　green　water；　a　fair　arm　was　the　only　limb　clearly　visible；　whence　the　bracelet　had　been　washed　or　torn。
The　second　picture　contained　for　foreground　only　the　dim　peak　of　a　hill；　with　grass　and　some　leaves　slanting　as　if　by　a　breeze。　Beyond　and　above　spread　an　expanse　of　sky；　dark　blue　as　at　twilight：　rising　into　the　sky　was　a　woman’s　shape　to　the　bust；　portrayed　in　tints　as　dusk　and　soft　as　I　could　bine。　The　dim　forehead　was　crowned　with　a　star；　the　lineaments　below　were　seen　as　through　the　suffusion　of　vapour；　the　eyes　shone　dark　and　wild；　the　hair　streamed　shadowy；　like　a　beamless　cloud　torn　by　storm　or　by　electric　travail。　On　the　neck　lay　a　pale　reflection　like　moonlight；　the　same　faint　lustre　touched　the　train　of　thin　clouds　from　which　rose　and　bowed　this　vision　of　the　Evening　Star。
The　third　showed　the　pinnacle　of　an　iceberg　piercing　a　polar　winter　sky：　a　muster　of　northern　lights　reared　their　dim　lances；　close　serried；　along　the　horizon。　Throwing　these　into　distance；　rose；　in　the　foreground；　a　head；—a　colossal　head；　inclined　towards　the　iceberg；　and　resting　against　it。　Two　thin　hands；　joined　under　the　forehead；　and　supporting　it；　drew　up　before　the　lower　features　a　sable　veil；　a　brow　quite　bloodless；　white　as　bone；　and　an　eye　hollow　and　fixed；　blank　of　meaning　but　for　the　glassiness　of　despair；　alone　were　visible。　Above　the　temples；　amidst　wreathed　turban　folds　of　black　drapery；　vague　in　its　character　and　consistency　as　cloud；　gleamed　a　ring　of　white　flame；　gemmed　with　sparkles　of　a　more　lurid　tinge。　This　pale　crescent　was　“the　likeness　of　a　kingly　crown；”　what　it　diademed　was　“the　shape　which　shape　had　none。”
“Were　you　happy　when　you　painted　these　pictures？”　asked　Mr。　Rochester　presently。
“I　was　absorbed；　sir：　yes；　and　I　was　happy。　To　paint　them；　in　short；　was　to　enjoy　one　of　the　keenest　pleasures　I　have　ever　known。”
“That　is　not　saying　much。　Your　pleasures；　by　your　own　account；　have　been　few；　but　I　daresay　you　did　exist　in　a　kind　of　artist’s　dreamland　while　y