CHAPTER XIII. Mr. Rochester, it seems, by the surgeon's orders, went to bed early that night; nor did he rise soon next morning. When he did come down, it was to attend to business; his agent and some of his tenants were arrived, and waiting to speak with him. Adèle and I had now to vacate the library; it would be in daily requisition as a reception-room for callers. A fire was lighted in an apartment up stairs, and there I carried our books, and arranged it for the future school-room. I discerned in the course of the morning that Thornfield Hall was a changed place; no longer silent as a church, it echoed every hour or two to a knock at the door or a clang of the bell; steps, too, often traversed the hall, and new voices spoke in different keys below; a rill from the outer world was flowing through it—it had a master; for my part, I liked it better. Adèle was not easy to teach that day; she could not apply; she kept running to the door and looking over the banisters to see if she could get a glimpse of Mr. Rochester; then she coined pretexts to go down stairs, in order, as I shrewdly suspected, to visit the library, where I knew she was not wanted; then, when I got a little angry, and made her sit still, she continued to talk incessantly of her "ami, Monsieur Edouard Fairfax de Rochester," as she dubbed him, (I had not before heard his prenomens,) and to conjecture what presents he had brought her; for it appears he had intimated the night before that, when his luggage came from Millcote, there would be found among it a little box in whose contents she had an interest. "Et cela doit signifier," said she, "qu'il y aura là dedans un cadeau pour moi, et peut être pour vous, aussi, mademoiselle. Monsieur a parlé de vous: il m'a demandé le nom de ma gouvernante, et si elle n'était pas une petite personne, assez mince et un peu pâle. J'ai dit que oui: car c'est vrai n'est-ce pas, mademoiselle?" I and my pupil dined as usual in Mrs. Fairfax's parlor; the afternoon was wild and snowy, and we passed it in the school-room. At dark I allowed Adèle to put away books and work, and to run down stairs; for from the comparative silence below, and from the cessation of appeals to the door. bell, I conjectured that Mr. Rochester was now at liberty. Left alone, I walked to the window, but nothing was to be seen thence; twilight and snow-flakes together thickened the air and hid the very shrubs on the lawn. I let down the curtain and went back to the fireside. In the clear embers I was tracing a view, not unlike a picture I remember to have seen of the castle of Heidelberg, on the Rhine, when Mrs. Fairfax came in, breaking up by her entrance the fiery mosaic I had been piecing together, and scattering, too, some heavy, unwelcome thoughts that were beginning to throng on my solitude. "Mr. Rochester would be glad if you and your pupil would take tea with him in the drawing-room this evening," said she; "he has been so much engaged all day that he could not ask to see you before." "When is his tea-time ?" I inquired. "Oh, at six o'clock; he keeps early hours in the country. You had better change your frock now; I will go with you and fasten it. Here is a candle." "Is it necessary to change my frock?" 66 Yes, you had better. I always dress for the evening when Mr. Rochester is here." This additional ceremony seemed somewhat stately; however, I repaired to my room, and, with Mrs. Fairfax's aid, replaced my black stuff dress by one of black silk, the best and the only additional one I had, except one of light gray, which, in my Lowood notions of the toilet, I thought too fine to be worn, except on first-rate occasions. "You want a brooch," said Mrs. Fairfax. I had a single little pearl ornament which Miss Temple gave me as a parting keepsake; I put it on, and then we went down stairs. Unused as I was to strangers, it was rather a trial to appear thus formally summoned, in Mr. Rochester's presence. let Mrs. Fairfax precede me into the dining-room, and kept in her shade as we crossed that apartment; and, passing the arch, whose curtain was now dropped, entered the elegant recess beyond. Two wax candles stood lighted on the table, and two on the mantle-piece; basking in the light and heat of a superk fire, lay Pilot; Adèle knelt near him. Half reclined on a couch appeared Mr. Rochester, his foot supported by the cushion; he was looking at Adèle and the dog; the fire shone full on his face. I knew my traveller, with his broad and jetty eyebrows, his square forehead, made squarer by the horizontal sweep of his black hair. I recognized his decisive nose, more remarkable for character than beauty, his full nostrils, denoting, I thought, choler; his grim mouth, chin, and jaw—yes, all three were very grim, and no mistake. His shape, now divested of cloak, I perceived harmonized in squareness with his physiognomy. I suppose it was a good figure in the athletic sense of the term, broad-chested and thin-flanked, though neither tall nor graceful. Mr. Rochester must have been aware of the entrance of Mrs. Fairfax and myself; but it appeared he was not in the mood to notice us, for he never lifted his head as we approached. "Here is Miss Eyre, sir," said Mrs. Fairfax, in her quiet way. He bowed, still not taking his eyes from the group of the dog and child. "Let Miss Eyre be seated," said he; and there was something in the forced, stiff bow, in the impatient yet formal tone, which seemed further to express, "What the deuce is it to me whether Miss Eyre be there or not? At this moment I am not disposed to accost her." I sat down quite disembarrassed. A reception of finished politeness would probably have confused me. I could not have returned or repaid it by answering grace and elegance on my part. 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 commended his patience and perseverance in going through with it. "Madam, I should like some tea," was the sole rejoinde. 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 the; "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 favor, 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. 66 "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." 66 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-inodesty! 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." 66 Humph " said Mr. Rochester, and he took his tea in sience. Come 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 chiffonières. 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." How long were you there?" "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 had bewitched my you horse; I am not sure yet. Who are your parents?" "I have none." "Nor ever had, I suppose; do you remember them?" "No." 66 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.” |