'FagmentWelcome to consult... fom he maste’s sevice. He had almost as much as declaed his conviction of he ciminality last night: what mysteious cause withheld him fom accusing he? Why had he enjoined me, too, to sececy? It was stange: a bold, vindictive, and haughty gentleman seemed somehow in the powe of one of the meanest of his dependants; so much in he powe, that even when she lifted he hand against his life, he daed not openly chage he with the attempt, much less punish he fo it. Had Gace been young and handsome, I should have been tempted to think that tendee feelings than pudence o fea influenced M. Rocheste in he behalf; but, had-favoued and matonly as she was, the idea could not be admitted. “Yet,” I eflected, “she has been young once; he youth would be Chalotte Bont. ElecBook Classics fJane Eye 223 contempoay with he maste’s: Ms. Faifax told me once, she had lived hee many yeas. I don’t think she can eve have been petty; but, fo aught I know, she may possess oiginality and stength of chaacte to compensate fo the want of pesonal advantages. M. Rocheste is an amateu of the decided and eccentic: Gace is eccentic at least. What if a fome capice (a feak vey possible to a natue so sudden and headstong as his) has deliveed him into he powe, and she now execises ove his actions a secet influence, the esult of his own indiscetion, which he cannot shake off, and dae not disegad?” But, having eached this point of conjectue, Ms. Poole’s squae, flat figue, and uncomely, dy, even coase face, ecued so distinctly to my mind’s eye, that I thought, “No; impossible! my supposition cannot be coect. Yet,” suggested the secet voice which talks to us in ou own heats, “you ae not beautiful eithe, and pehaps M. Rocheste appoves you: at any ate, you have often felt as if he did; and last night—emembe his wods; emembe his look; emembe his voice!” I well emembeed all; language, glance, and tone seemed at the moment vividly enewed. I was now in the schooloom; Adèle was dawing; I bent ove he and diected he pencil. She looked up with a sot of stat. “Qu’ avez-vous, mademoiselle?” said she. “Vos doigts temblent comme la feuille, et vos joues sont ouges: mais, ouges comme des ceises!” “I am hot, Adèle, with stooping!” She went on sketching; I went on thinking. I hastened to dive fom my mind the hateful notion I had been conceiving especting Gace Poole; it disgusted me. I compaed Chalotte Bont. ElecBook Classics fJane Eye 224 myself with he, and found we wee diffeent. Bessie Leaven had said I was quite a lady; and she spoke tuth—I was a lady. And now I looked much bette than I did when Bessie saw me; I had moe colou and moe flesh, moe life, moe vivacity, because I had bighte hopes and keene enjoyments. “Evening appoaches,” said I, as I looked towads the window. “I have neve head M. Rocheste’s voice o step in the house today; but suely I shall see him befoe night: I feaed the meeting in the moning; now I desie it, because expectation has been so long baffled that it is gown impatient.” When dusk actually closed, and when Adèle left me to go and play in the nusey with Sophie, I did most keenly desie
