encountered the personage who had received me last night. She stood at
the bottom of the long room, on the hearth; for there was a fire at
each end; she surveyed the two rows of girls silently and gravely.
Miss Miller, approaching, seemed to ask her a question, and having
received her answer, went back to her place, and said aloud-
'Monitor of the first class, fetch the globes!'
While the direction was being executed, the lady consulted moved
slowly up the room. I suppose I have a considerable organ of
veneration, for I retain yet the sense of admiring awe with which my
eyes traced her steps. Seen now, in broad day-light, she looked
tall, fair, and shapely; brown eyes with a benignant light in their
irids, and a fine pencilling of long lashes round, relieved the
whiteness of her large front; on each of her temples her hair, of a
very dark brown, was clustered in round curls, according to the
fashion of those times, when neither smooth bands nor long ringlets
were in vogue; her dress, also in the mode of the day, was of purple
cloth, relieved by a sort of Spanish trimming of black velvet; a
gold watch (watches were not so common then as now) shone at her
girdle. Let the reader add, to complete the picture, refined features;
a complexion, if pale, clear; and a stately air and carriage, and he
will have, at least, as clearly as words can give it, a correct idea
of the exterior of Miss Temple- Maria Temple, as I afterwards saw
the name written in a prayer-book intrusted to me to carry to church.
The superintendent of Lowood (for such was this lady) having
taken her seat before a pair of globes placed on one of the tables,
summoned the first class round her, and commenced giving a lesson on
geography; the lower classes were called by the teachers:
repetitions in history, grammar, etc., went on for an hour; writing
and arithmetic succeeded, and music lessons were given by Miss
Temple to some of the elder girls. The duration of each lesson was
measured by the clock, which at last struck twelve. The superintendent
rose-
'I have a word to address to the pupils,' said she.
The tumult of cessation from lessons was already breaking forth,
but it sank at her voice. She went on-
'You had this morning a breakfast which you could not eat; you must
be hungry:- I have ordered that a lunch of bread and cheese shall be
served to all.'
The teachers looked at her with a sort of surprise.
'It is to be done on my responsibility,' she added, in an
explanatory tone to them, and immediately afterwards left the room.
The bread and cheese was presently brought in and distributed, to
the high delight and refreshment of the whole school. The order was
now given 'To the garden!' Each put on a coarse straw bonnet, with
strings of coloured calico, and a cloak of grey frieze, I was
similarly equipped, and, following the stream, I made my way into
the open air.
The garden was a wide enclosure, surrounded with walls so high as
to exclude every glimpse of prospect; a covered verandah ran down
one side, and broad walks bordered a middle space divided into
scores of little beds: these beds were assigned as gardens for the
pupils to cultivate, and each bed had an owner. When full of flowers
they would doubtless look pretty; but now, at the latter end of
January, all was wintry blight and brown decay. I shuddered as I stood
and looked round me: it was an inclement day for outdoor exercise; not
positively rainy, but darkened by a drizzling yellow fog; all under
foot was still soaking wet with the floods of yesterday. The
stronger among the girls ran about and engaged in active games, but
sundry pale and thin ones herded together for shelter and warmth in
the verandah; and amongst these, as the dense mist penetrated to their
shivering frames, I heard frequently the sound of a hollow cough.
As yet I had spoken to no one, nor did anybody seem to take
notice of me; I stood lonely enough: but to that feeling of
isolation I was accustomed; it did not oppress me much. I leant
against a pillar of the verandah, drew my grey mantle close about
me, and, trying to forget the cold which nipped me without, and the
unsatisfied hunger which gnawed me within, delivered myself up to
the employment of watching and thinking. My reflections were too
undefined and fragmentary to merit record: I hardly yet knew where I
was; Gateshead and my past life seemed floated away to an immeasurable
distance; the present was vague and strange, and of the future I could
form no conjecture. I looked round the convent-like garden, and then
up at the house- a large building, half of which seemed grey and
old, the other half quite new. The new part, containing the schoolroom
and dormitory, was lit by mullioned and latticed windows, which gave
it a church-like aspect; a stone tablet over the door bore this
inscription-
Brocklehurst, of Brocklehurst Hall, in this county.' 'Let your light
so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify
your Father which is in heaven.'- St. Matt. v. 16.
I read these words over and over again: I felt that an
explanation belonged to them, and was unable fully to penetrate
their import. I was still pondering the signification of
'Institution', and endeavouring to make out a connection between the
first words and the verse of Scripture, when the sound of a cough
close behind me made me turn my head. I saw a girl sitting on a
stone bench near; she was bent over a book, on the perusal of which
she seemed intent: from where I stood I could see the title- it was
Rasselas; a name that struck me as strange, and consequently
attractive. In turning a leaf she happened to look up, and I said to
her directly-
'Is your book interesting?' I had already formed the intention of
asking her to lend it to me some day.
'I like it,' she answered, after a pause of a second or two, during
which she examined me.
'What is it about?' I continued. I hardly know where I found the
hardihood thus to open a conversation with a stranger; the step was
contrary to my nature and habits: but I think her occupation touched a
chord of sympathy somewhere; for I too liked reading, though of a
frivolous and childish kind; I could not digest or comprehend the
serious or substantial.
'You may look at it,' replied the girl, offering me the book.
I did so; a brief examination convinced me that the contents were
less taking than the title: Rasselas looked dull to my trifling taste;
I saw nothing about fairies, nothing about genii; no bright variety
seemed spread over the closely-printed pages. I returned it to her;
she received it quietly, and without saying anything she was about
to relapse into her former studious mood: again I ventured to
disturb her-
'Can you tell me what the writing on that stone over the door
means? What is Lowood Institution?'
'This house where you are come to live.'
'And why do they call it Institution? Is it in any way different
from other schools?'
'It is partly a charity-school: you and I, and all the rest of
us, are charity-children. I suppose you are an orphan: are not
either your father or your mother dead?'
'Both died before I can remember.'
'Well, all the girls here have lost either one or both parents, and
this is called an institution for educating orphans.'
'Do we pay no money? Do they keep us for nothing?'
'We pay, or our friends pay, fifteen pounds a year for each.'
'Then why do they call us charity-children?'
'Because fifteen pounds is not enough for board and teaching, and
the deficiency is supplied by subscription.'
'Who subscribes?'
'Different benevolent-minded ladies and gentlemen in this
neighbourhood and in London.'
'Who was Naomi Brocklehurst?'
'The lady who built the new part of this house as that tablet
records, and whose son overlooks and directs everything here.'
'Why?'
'Because he is treasurer and manager of the establishment.'
'Then this house does not belong to that tall lady who wears a
watch, and who said we were to have some bread and cheese?'
'To Miss Temple? Oh, no! I wish it did: she has to answer to Mr.
Brocklehurst for all she does. Mr. Brocklehurst buys all our food
and all our clothes.'
'Does he live here?'
'No- two miles off, at a large hall.'
'Is he a good man?'
'He is a clergyman, and is said to do a great deal of good.'
'Did you say that tall lady was called Miss Temple?'
'Yes.'
'And what are the other teachers called?'
'The one with red cheeks is called Miss Smith; she attends to the
work, and cuts out- for we make our own clothes, our frocks, and
pelisses, and everything; the little one with black hair is Miss
Scatcherd; she teaches history and grammar, and hears the second class
repetitions; and the one who wears a shawl, and has a
pocket-handkerchief tied to her side with a yellow ribband, is
Madame Pierrot: she comes from Lisle, in France, and teaches French.'
'Do you like the teachers?'
'Well enough.'
'Do you like the little black one, and the Madame-? -I cannot
pronounce her name as you do.'
'Miss Scatcherd is hasty- you must take care not to offend her;
Madame Pierrot is not a bad sort of person.'
'But Miss Temple is the best- isn't she?'
'Miss Temple is very good and very clever; she is above the rest,
because she knows far more than they do.'
'Have you been long here?'
'Two years.'
'Are you an orphan?'
'My mother is dead.'
'Are you happy here?'
'You ask rather too many questions. I have given you answers enough
for the present: now I want to read.'
But at that moment the summons sounded for dinner; all re-entered
the house. The odour which now filled the refectory was scarcely
more appetising than that which had regaled our nostrils at breakfast:
the dinner was served in two huge tin-plated vessels, whence rose a
strong steam redolent of rancid fat. I found the mess to consist of
indifferent potatoes and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed and
cooked together. Of this preparation a tolerably abundant plateful was
apportioned to each pupil. I ate what I could, and wondered within
myself whether every day's fare would be like this.
After dinner, we immediately adjourned to the schoolroom: lessons
recommenced, and were continued till five o'clock.
The only marked event of the afternoon was, that I saw the girl
with whom I had conversed in the verandah dismissed in disgrace by
Miss Scatcherd from a history class, and sent to stand in the middle
of the large schoolroom. The punishment seemed to me in a high
degree ignominious, especially for so great a girl- she looked
thirteen or upwards. I expected she would show signs of great distress
and shame; but to my surprise she neither wept nor blushed:
composed, though grave, she stood, the central mark of all eyes.
'How can she bear it so quietly- so firmly?' I asked of myself.
'Were I in her place, it seems to me I should wish the earth to open
and swallow me up. She looks as if she were thinking of something
beyond her punishment- beyond her situation: of something not round
her nor before her. I have heard of day-dreams- is she in a
day-dream now? Her eyes are fixed on the floor, but I am sure they
do not see it- her sight seems turned in, gone down into her heart:
she is looking at what she can remember, I believe; not at what is
really present. I wonder what sort of a girl she is- whether good or
naughty.'
Soon after five P.M. we had another meal, consisting of a small mug
of coffee, and half a slice of brown bread. I devoured my bread and
drank my coffee with relish; but I should have been glad of as much
more- I was still hungry. Half an hour's recreation succeeded, then
study; then the glass of water and the piece of oat-cake, prayers, and
bed. Such was my first day at Lowood.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER VI
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE next day commenced as before, getting up and dressing by
rushlight; but this morning we were obliged to dispense with the
ceremony of washing; the water in the pitchers was frozen. A change
had taken place in the weather the preceding evening, and a keen
north-east wind, whistling through the crevices of our bedroom windows
all night long, had made us shiver in our beds, and turned the
contents of the ewers to ice.
Before the long hour and a half of prayers and Bible-reading was
over, I felt ready to perish with cold. Breakfast-time came at last,
and this morning the porridge was not burnt; the quality was
eatable, the quantity small. How small my portion seemed! I wished
it had been doubled.
In the course of the day I was enrolled a member of the fourth
class, and regular tasks and occupations were assigned me: hitherto, I
had only been a spectator of the proceedings at Lowood; I was now to
become an actor therein. At first, being little accustomed to learn by
heart, the lessons appeared to me both long and difficult; the
frequent change from task to task, too, bewildered me; and I was
glad when, about three o'clock in the afternoon, Miss Smith put into
my hands a border of muslin two yards long, together with needle,
