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 car; 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.
'I will tell you in your private ear,' replied she, wagging her
turban three times with portentous significancy.
'But my curiosity will be past its appetite; it craves food now.'
'Ask Blanche; she is nearer you than I.'
'Oh, don't refer him to me, mama! I have just one word to say of
the whole tribe; they are a nuisance. Not that I ever suffered much
from them; I took care to turn the tables. What tricks Theodore and
I used to play on our Miss Wilsons, and Mrs. Greys, and Madame
Jouberts! Mary was always too sleepy to join in a plot with spirit.
The best fun was with Madame Joubert: Miss Wilson was a poor sickly
thing, lachrymose and low-spirited, not worth the trouble of
vanquishing, in short; and Mrs. Grey was coarse and insensible; no
blow took effect on her. But poor Madame Joubert! I see her yet in her
raging passions, when we had driven her to extremities- spilt our tea,
crumbled our bread and butter, tossed our books up to the ceiling, and
played a charivari with the ruler and desk, the fender and fire-irons.
Theodore, do you remember those merry days?'
'Yaas, to be sure I do,' drawled Lord Ingram; 'and the poor old
stick used to cry out "Oh you villains childs!"- and then we
sermonised her on the presumption of attempting to teach such clever
blades as we were, when she was herself so ignorant.'
'We did; and, Tedo, you know, I helped you in prosecuting (or
persecuting) your tutor, whey-faced Mr. Vining- the parson in the pip,
as we used to call him. He and Miss Wilson took the liberty of falling
in love with each other- at least Tedo and I thought so; we
surprised sundry tender glances and sighs which we interpreted as
tokens of "la belle passion," and I promise you the public soon had
the benefit of our discovery; we employed it as a sort of lever to
hoist our dead-weights from the house. Dear mama, there, as soon as
she got an inkling of the business, found out that it was of an
immoral tendency. Did you not, my lady-mother?'
'Certainly, my best. And I was quite right: depend on that: there
are a thousand reasons why liaisons between governesses and tutors
should never be tolerated a moment in any well-regulated house;
firstly-'
'Oh, gracious, mama! Spare us the enumeration! Au reste, we all
know them: danger of bad example to innocence of childhood;
distractions and consequent neglect of duty on the part of the
attached- mutual alliance and reliance; confidence thence resulting-
insolence accompanying- mutiny and general blowup. Am I right,
Baroness Ingram, of Ingram Park?'
'My lily-flower, you are right now, as always.'
'Then no more need be said: change the subject.'
Amy Eshton, not hearing or not heeding this dictum, joined in
with her soft, infantine tone: 'Louisa and I used to quiz our
governess too; but she was such a good creature, she would bear
anything: nothing put her out. She was never cross with us; was she,
Louisa?'
'No, never: we might do what we pleased; ransack her desk and her
workbox, and turn her drawers inside out; and she was so good-natured,
she would give us anything we asked for.'
'I suppose, now,' said Miss Ingram, curling her lip
sarcastically, 'we shall have an abstract of the memoirs of all the
governesses extant: in order to avert such a visitation, I again
move the introduction of a new topic. Mr. Rochester, do you second
my motion?'
'Madam, I support you on this point, as on every other.'
'Then on me be the onus of bringing it forward. Signior Eduardo,
are you in voice to-night?'
'Donna Bianca, if you command it, I will be.'
'Then, signior, I lay on you my sovereign behest to furbish up your
lungs and other vocal organs, as they will be wanted on my royal
service.'
'Who would not be the Rizzio of so divine a Mary?'
'A fig for Rizzio!' cried she, tossing her head with all its curls,
as she moved to the piano. 'It is my opinion the fiddler David must
have been an insipid sort of fellow; I like black Bothwell better:
to my mind a man is nothing without a spice of the devil in him; and
history may say what it will of James Hepburn, but I have a notion, he
was just the sort of wild, fierce, bandit hero whom I could have
consented to gift with my hand.'
'Gentlemen, you hear! Now which of you most resembles Bothwell?'
cried Mr. Rochester.
'I should say the preference lies with you,' responded Colonel
Dent.
'On my honour, I am much obliged to you,' was the reply.
Miss Ingram, who had now seated herself with proud grace at the
piano, spreading out her snowy robes in queenly amplitude, commenced a
