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“god grant it may be so! here; jane; is an arbour; sit down。”
the arbour was an arch in the wall; lined with ivy; it contained a rustic seat。 mr。 rochester took it; leaving room; however; for me: but i stood before him。
“sit;” he said; “the bench is long enough for two。 you don’t hesitate to take a place at my side; do you? is that wrong; jane?”
i answered him by assuming it: to refuse would; i felt; have been unwise。
“now; my little friend; while the sun drinks the dew—while all the flowers in this old garden awake and expand; and the birds fetch their young ones’ breakfast out of the thornfield; and the early bees do their first spell of work—i’ll put a case to you; which you must endeavour to suppose your own: but first; look at me; and tell me you are at ease; and not fearing that i err in detaining you; or that you err in staying。”
“no; sir; i am content。”
“well then; jane; call to aid your fancy:… suppose you were no longer a girl well reared and disciplined; but a wild boy indulged from childhood upwards; imagine yourself in a remote foreign land; conceive that you there mit a capital error; no matter of what nature or from what motives; but one whose consequences must follow you through life and taint all your existence。 mind; i don’t say a crime; i am not speaking of shedding of blood or any other guilty act; which might make the perpetrator amenable to the law: my word is error。 the results of what you have done bee in time to you utterly insupportable; you take measures to obtain relief: unusual measures; but neither unlawful nor culpable。 still you are miserable; for hope has quitted you on the very confines of life: your sun at noon darkens in an eclipse; which you feel will not leave it till the time of setting。 bitter and base associations have bee the sole food of your memory: you wander here and there; seeking rest in exile: happiness in pleasure—i mean in heartless; sensual pleasure—such as dulls intellect and blights feeling。 heart…weary and soul…withered; you e home after years of voluntary banishment: you make a new acquaintance—how or where no matter: you find in this stranger much of the good and bright qualities which you have sought for twenty years; and never before encountered; and they are all fresh; healthy; without soil and without taint。 such society revives; regenerates: you feel better days e back—higher wishes; purer feelings; you desire to remence your life; and to spend what remains to you of days in a way more worthy of an immortal being。 to attain this end; are you justified in overleaping an obstacle of custom—a mere conventional impediment which neither your conscience sanctifies nor your judgment approves?”
he paused for an answer: and what was i to say? oh; for some good spirit to suggest a judicious and satisfactory response! vain aspiration! the west wind whispered in the ivy round me; but no gentle ariel borrowed its breath as a medium of speech: the birds sang in the tree…tops; but their song; however sweet; was inarticulate。
again mr。 rochester propounded his query:
“is the wandering and sinful; but now rest…seeking and repentant; man justified in daring the world’s opinion; in order to attach to him for ever this gentle; gracious; genial stranger; thereby securing his own peace of mind and regeneration of life?”
“sir;” i answered; “a wanderer’s repose or a sinner’s reformation should never depend on a fellow…creature。 men and women die; philosophers falter in wisdom; and christians in goodness: if any one you know has suffered and erred; let him look higher than his equals for strength to amend and solace to heal。”
“but the instrument—the instrument! god; who does the work; ordains the instrument。 i have myself—i tell it you without parable—been a worldly; dissipated; restless man; and i believe i have found the instrument for my cure in—”
he paused: the birds went on carolling; the leaves lightly rustling。 i almost wondered they did not check their songs and whispers to catch the suspended revelation; but they would have had to wait many minutes—so long was the silence protracted。 at last i looked up at the tardy speaker: he was looking eagerly at me。
“little friend;” said he; in quite a changed tone—while his face changed too; losing all its softness and gravity; and being harsh and sarcastic—“you have noticed my tender penchant for miss ingram: don’t you think if i married her she would regenerate me with a vengeance?”
he got up instantly; went quite to the other end of the walk; and when he came back he was humming a tune。
“jane; jane;” said he; stopping before me; “you are quite pale with your vigils: don’t you curse me for disturbing your rest?”
“curse you? no; sir。”
“shake hands in confirmation of the word。 what cold fingers! they were warmer last night when i touched them at the door of the mysterious chamber。 jane; when will you watch with me again?”
“whenever i can be useful; sir。”
“for instance; the night before i am married! i am sure i shall not be able to sleep。 will you promise to sit up with me to bear me pany? to you i can talk of my lovely one: for now you have seen her and know her。”
“yes; sir。”
“she’s a rare one; is she not; jane?”
“yes; sir。”
“a strapper—a real strapper; jane: big; brown; and buxom; with hair just such as the ladies of carthage must have had。 bless me! there’s dent and lynn in the stables! go in by the shrubbery; through that wicket。”
as i went one way; he went another; and i heard him in the yard; saying cheerfully—
“mason got the start of you all this morning; he was gone before sunrise: i rose at four to see him off。”
m。
Chapter 21
~
presentiments are strange things! and so are sympathies; and so are signs; and the three bined make one mystery to which humanity has not yet found the key。 i never laughed at presentiments in my life; because i have had strange ones of my own。 sympathies; i believe; exist (for instance; between far…distant; long…absent; wholly estranged relatives asserting; notwithstanding their alienation; the unity of the source to which each traces his origin) whose workings baffle mortal prehension。 and signs; for aught we know; may be but the sympathies of nature with man。
when i was a little girl; only six years old; i one night heard bessie leaven say to martha abbot that she had been dreaming about a little child; and that to dream of children was a sure sign of trouble; either to one’s self or one’s kin。 the saying might have worn out of my memory; had not a circumstance immediately followed which served indelibly to fix it there。 the next day bessie was sent for home to the deathbed of her little sister。
of late i had often recalled this saying and this incident; for during the past week scarcely a night had gone over my couch that had not brought with it a dream of an infant; which i sometimes hushed in my arms; sometimes dandled on my knee; sometimes watched playing with daisies on a lawn; or again; dabbling its hands in running water。 it was a wailing child this night; and a laughing one the next: now it nestled close to me; and now it ran from m