I hardly heard Mrs。 Fairfax’s account of the curtain conflagration during dinner; so much was I occupied in puzzling my brains over the enigmatical character of Grace Poole; and still more in pondering the problem of her position at Thornfield and questioning why she had not been given into custody that morning; or; at the very least; dismissed from her master’s service。 He had almost as much as declared his conviction of her criminality last night: what mysterious cause withheld him from accusing her? Why had he enjoined me; too; to secrecy? It was strange: a bold; vindictive; and haughty gentleman seemed somehow in the power of one of the meanest of his dependants; so much in her power; that even when she lifted her hand against his life; he dared not openly charge her with the attempt; much less punish her for it。
Had Grace been young and handsome; I should have been tempted to think that tenderer feelings than prudence or fear influenced Mr。 Rochester in her behalf; but; hard…favoured and matronly as she was; the idea could not be admitted。 “Yet;” I reflected; “she has been young once; her youth would be contemporary with her master’s: Mrs。 Fairfax told me once; she had lived here many years。 I don’t think she can ever have been pretty; but; for aught I know; she may possess originality and strength of character to pensate for the want of personal advantages。 Mr。 Rochester is an amateur of the decided and eccentric: Grace is eccentric at least。 What if a former caprice (a freak very possible to a nature so sudden and headstrong as his) has delivered him into her power; and she now exercises over his actions a secret influence; the result of his own indiscretion; which he cannot shake off; and dare not disregard?” But; having reached this point of conjecture; Mrs。 Poole’s square; flat figure; and unely; dry; even coarse face; recurred so distinctly to my mind’s eye; that I thought; “No; impossible! my supposition cannot be correct。 Yet;” suggested the secret voice which talks to us in our own hearts; “you are not beautiful either; and perhaps Mr。 Rochester approves you: at any rate; you have often felt as if he did; and last night—remember his words; remember his look; remember his voice!”
I well remembered all; language; glance; and tone seemed at the moment vividly renewed。 I was now in the schoolroom; Adèle was drawing; I bent over her and directed her pencil。 She looked up with a sort of start。
“Qu’ avez…vous; mademoiselle?” said she。 “Vos doigts tremblent me la feuille; et vos joues sont rouges: mais; rouges me des cerises!”
“I am hot; Adèle; with stooping!” She went on sketching; I went on thinking。
I hastened to drive from my mind the hateful notion I had been conceiving respecting Grace Poole; it disgusted me。 I pared myself with her; and found we were different。 Bessie Leaven had said I was quite a lady; and she spoke truth—I was a lady。 And now I looked much better than I did when Bessie saw me; I had more colour and more flesh; more life; more vivacity; because I had brighter hopes and keener enjoyments。
“Evening approaches;” said I; as I looked towards the window。 “I have never heard Mr。 Rochester’s voice or step in the house to…day; but surely I shall see him before night: I feared the meeting in the morning; now I desire it; because expectation has been so long baffled that it is grown impatient。”
When dusk actually closed; and when Adèle left me to go and play in the nursery with Sophie; I did most keenly desire it。 I listened for the bell to ring below; I listened for Leah ing up with a message; I fancied sometimes I heard Mr。 Rochester’s own tread; and I turned to the door; expecting it to open and admit him。 The door remained shut; darkness only came in through the window。 Still it was not late; he often sent for me at seven and eight o’clock; and it was yet but six。 Surely I should not be wholly disappointed to… night; when I had so many things to say to him! I wanted again to introduce the subject of Grace Poole; and to hear what he would answer; I wanted to ask him plainly if he really believed it was she who had made last night’s hideous attempt; and if so; why he kept her wickedness a secret。 It little mattered whether my curiosity irritated him; I knew the pleasure of vexing and soothing him by turns; it was one I chiefly delighted in; and a sure instinct always prevented me from going too far; beyond the verge of provocation I never ventured; on the extreme brink I liked well to try my skill。 Retaining every minute form of respect; every propriety of my station; I could still meet him in argument without fear or uneasy restraint; this suited both him and me。
A tread creaked on the stairs at last。 Leah made her appearance; but it was only to intimate that tea was ready in Mrs。 Fairfax’s room。 Thither I repaired; glad at least to go downstairs; for that brought me; I imagined; nearer to Mr。 Rochester’s presence。
“You must want your tea;” said the good lady; as I joined her; “you ate so little at dinner。 I am afraid;” she continued; “you are not well to…day: you look flushed and feverish。”
“Oh; quite well! I never felt better。”
“Then you must prove it by evincing a good appetite; will you fill the teapot while I knit off this needle?” Having pleted her task; she rose to draw down the blind; which she had hitherto kept up; by way; I suppose; of making the most of daylight; though dusk was now fast deepening into total obscurity。
“It is fair to…night;” said she; as she looked through the panes; “though not starlight; Mr。 Rochester has; on the whole; had a favourable day for his journey。”
“Journey!—Is Mr。 Rochester gone anywhere? I did not know he was out。”
“Oh; he set of the moment he had breakfasted! He is gone to the Leas; Mr。 Eshton’s place; ten miles on the other side Millcote。 I believe there is quite a party assembled there; Lord Ingram; Sir George Lynn; Colonel Dent; and others。”
“Do you expect him back to…night?”
“No—nor to…morrow either; I should think he is very likely to stay a week or more: when these fine; fashionable people get together; they are so surrounded by elegance and gaiety; so well provided with all that can please and entertain; they are in no hurry to separate。 Gentlemen especially are often in request on such occasions; and Mr。 Rochester is so talented and so lively in society; that I believe he is a general favourite: the ladies are very fond of him; though you would not think his appearance calculated to remend him particularly in their eyes: but I suppose his acquirements and abilities; perhaps his wealth and good blood; make amends for any little fault of look。”
“Are there ladies at the Leas?”
“There are Mrs。 Eshton and her three daughters—very elegant young ladies indeed; and there are the Honourable Blanche and Mary Ingram; most beautiful women; I suppose: indeed I have seen Blanche; six or seven years since; when she was a girl of eighteen。 She came here to a Christmas ball and party Mr。 Rochester gave。 You should have seen the dining…room that day—how richly it was decorated; how brilliantly lit up! I should think there were fifty ladies and gentlemen present—all of the first county families; and Miss Ingram was considered the belle of the evening。”
“You saw her; you say; Mrs。 Fairfax: what was she like?”
“Yes; I saw her。 The dining…room doors were thrown open; and; as it was Christmas…time; the servants were allowed to assemble in the hall; to hear some of the ladies sing and play。 Mr。 Rochester would have me to e in; and I sat down in a quiet corner and watched them。 I never saw a more splendid scene: the ladies were magnificently dressed; most of them—at least most of the younger ones—looked handsome; but Miss Ingram was certainly the queen。”
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