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it on an occasion that seemed to me of small moment; namely; my weekly visit to Morton school; and still more was I puzzled when; if the day was unfavourable; if there was snow; or rain; or high wind; and his sisters urged me not to go; he would invariably make light of their solicitude; and encourage me to acplish the task without regard to the elements。

“Jane is not such a weakling as you would make her;” he would say: “she can bear a mountain blast; or a shower; or a few flakes of snow; as well as any of us。 Her constitution is both sound and elastic;—better calculated to endure variations of climate than many more robust。”

And when I returned; sometimes a good deal tired; and not a little weather…beaten; I never dared plain; because I saw that to murmur would be to vex him: on all occasions fortitude pleased him; the reverse was a special annoyance。

One afternoon; however; I got leave to stay at home; because I really had a cold。 His sisters were gone to Morton in my stead: I sat reading Schiller; he; deciphering his crabbed Oriental scrolls。 As I exchanged a translation for an exercise; I happened to look his way: there I found myself under the influence of the ever…watchful blue eye。 How long it had been searching me through and through; and over and over; I cannot tell: so keen was it; and yet so cold; I felt for the moment superstitious—as if I were sitting in the room with something uncanny。

“Jane; what are you doing?”

“Learning German。”

“I want you to give up German and learn Hindostanee。”

“You are not in earnest?”

“In such earnest that I must have it so: and I will tell you why。”

He then went on to explain that Hindostanee was the language he was himself at present studying; that; as he advanced; he was apt to forget the mencement; that it would assist him greatly to have a pupil with whom he might again and again go over the elements; and so fix them thoroughly in his mind; that his choice had hovered for some time between me and his sisters; but that he had fixed on me because he saw I could sit at a task the longest of the three。 Would I do him this favour? I should not; perhaps; have to make the sacrifice long; as it wanted now barely three months to his departure。

St。 John was not a man to be lightly refused: you felt that every impression made on him; either for pain or pleasure; was deep…graved and permanent。 I consented。 When Diana and Mary returned; the former found her scholar transferred from her to her brother: she laughed; and both she and Mary agreed that St。 John should never have persuaded them to such a step。 He answered quietly—

“I know it。”

I found him a very patient; very forbearing; and yet an exacting master: he expected me to do a great deal; and when I fulfilled his expectations; he; in his own way; fully testified his approbation。 By degrees; he acquired a certain influence over me that took away my liberty of mind: his praise and notice were more restraining than his indifference。 I could no longer talk or laugh freely when he was by; because a tiresomely importunate instinct reminded me that vivacity (at least in me) was distasteful to him。 I was so fully aware that only serious moods and occupations were acceptable; that in his presence every effort to sustain or follow any other became vain: I fell under a freezing spell。 When he said “go;” I went; “e;” I came; “do this;” I did it。 But I did not love my servitude: I wished; many a time; he had continued to neglect me。

One evening when; at bedtime; his sisters and I stood round him; bidding him good…night; he kissed each of them; as was his custom; and; as ; he gave me his hand。 Diana; who chanced to be in a frolicsome humour (She was not painfully controlled by his will; for hers; in another way; was as strong); exclaimed—

“St。 John! you used to call Jane your third sister; but you don’t treat her as such: you should kiss her too。”

She pushed me towards him。 I thought Diana very provoking; and felt unfortably confused; and while I was thus thinking and feeling; St。 John bent his head; his Greek face was brought to a level y eyes piercingly—he kissed me。 There are no such things as marble kisses or ice kisses; or I should say my ecclesiastical cousin’s salute belonged to one of these classes; but there may be experiment kisses; and his was an experiment kiss。 When given; he viewed me to learn the result; it was not striking: I am sure I did not blush; perhaps I might have turned a little pale; for I felt as if this kiss were a seal affixed to my fetters。 He never omitted the ceremony afterwards; and the gravity and quiescence with which I underwent it; seemed to invest it for him with a certain charm。

As for me; I daily wished more to please him; but to do so; I felt daily more and more that I must disown half my nature; stifle half my faculties; wrest my tastes from their original bent; force myself to the adoption of pursuits for which I had no natural vocation。 He wanted to train me to an elevation I could never reach; it racked me hourly to aspire to the standard he uplifted。 The thing was as impossible as to mould my irregular features to his correct and classic pattern; to give to my changeable green eyes the sea…blue tint and solemn lustre of his own。

Not his ascendancy alone; however; held me in thrall at present。 Of late it had been easy enough for me to look sad: a cankering evil sat at my heart and drained my happiness at its source—the evil of suspense。

Perhaps you think I had forgotten Mr。 Rochester; reader; amidst these changes of place and fortune。 Not for a moment。 His idea was still with me; because it was not a vapour sunshine could disperse; nor a sand…traced effigy storms could wash away; it was a name graven on a tablet; fated to last as long as the marble it inscribed。 The craving to know what had bee of him followed me everywhere; when I was at Morton; I re…entered my cottage every evening to think of that; and now at Moor House; I sought my bedroom each night to brood over it。

In the course of my necessary correspondence with Mr。 Briggs about the will; I had inquired if he knew anything of Mr。 Rochester’s present residence and state of health; but; as St。 John had conjectured; he was quite ignorant of all concerning him。 I then wrote to Mrs。 Fairfax; entreating information on the subject。 I had calculated with certainty on this step answering my end: I felt sure it would elicit an early answer。 I was astonished when a fortnight passed without reply; but when two months wore away; and day after day the post arrived and brought nothing for me; I fell a prey to the keenest anxiety。

I wrote again: there was a chance of my first letter having missed。 Renewed hope followed renewed effort: it shone like the former for some weeks; then; like it; it faded; flickered: not a line; not a word reached me。 When half a year wasted in vain expectancy; my hope died out; and then I felt dark indeed。

A fine spring shone round me; which I could not enjoy。 Summer approached; Diana tried to cheer me: she said I looked ill; and wished to acpany me to the sea…side。 This St。 John opposed; he said I did not want dissipation; I wanted employment; my present life was too purposeless; I required an aim; and; I suppose; by way of supplying deficiencies; he prolonged still further my lessons in Hindostanee; and greplishment: and I; like a fool; never thought of resisting him—I could not resist him。

One day I had e to my studies in lower spirits than usual; the ebb was occasioned by a poignantly felt disappointment。 Hannah had told me in the morning there was a letter for me; and when I went down to take it; almost certain that the long…looked for tidings were vouchsafed me at last; I found only an unimportant note from Mr。 Briggs on business。 The bitter check had wrung from me some tears; and now; as I sat poring over the crabbed characters and flourishing tropes of an Indian scribe; my eyes filled again。

St。 John called me to his side to read; in attempting to do this my voice failed me: words were lost in sobs。 He and I were the only occupants of the parlour: Diana was practising her music in the drawing…room; Mary was gardening—it was a very fine May day; clear; sunny; and breezy。 My panion expressed no surprise at this emotion; nor did he question me as to its cause; he only said—

“We will wait a few minutes; Jane; till you are more posed。” And while I smothered the paroxysm with all haste; he sat calm and patient; leaning on his desk; and looking like a physician watching with the eye of science an expected and fully understood crisis in a patient’s malady。 Having stifled my sobs; wiped my eyes; and muttered something about not being very well that morning; I resumed my task; and succeeded in pleting it。 St。 John put away my books and his; locked his desk; and said—

“Now; Jane; you shall take a walk; and with me。”

“I will call Diana and Mary。”

“No; I want only one panion this morning; and that must be you。 Put on your things; go out by the kitchen…door: take the road towards the head of Marsh Glen: I will join you in a moment。”

I know no medium: I never in my life have known any medium in my dealings with positive; hard characters; antagonistic to my own; between absolute submission and determined revolt。 I have always faithfully observed the one; up to the very moment of bursting; sometimes with volcanic vehemence; into the other; and as neither present circumstances warranted; nor my present mood inclined me to mutiny; I observed careful obedience to St。 John’s directions; and in ten minutes I was treading the wild track of the glen; side by side with him。

The breeze was from the west: it came over the hills; sweet with scents of heath and rush; the sky was of stainless blue; the stream descending the ravine; swelled with past spring rains; poured along plentiful and clear; catching golden gleams from the sun; and sapphire tints from the firmament。 As we advanced and left the track; we trod a soft turf; mossy fine and emerald green; minutely enamelled with a tiny white flower; and spangled with a star…like yellow blossom: the hills; meantime; shut us quite in; for the glen; towards its head; wound to their very core。

“Let us rest here;” said St。 John; as we reached the first stragglers of a battalion of rocks; guarding a sort of pass; beyond which the beck rushed down a waterfall; and where; still a little farther; the mountain shook off turf and flower; had only heath for raiment and crag for gem—where it exaggerated the wild to the savage; and exchanged the fresh for the frowning—where it guarded the forlorn hope of solitude; and a last refuge for silence。

I took a seat: St。 John stood near me。 He looked up the pass and down the hollow; his glance wandered away with the stream; and returned to traverse the unclouded heaven which coloured it: he removed his hat; let the breeze stir his hair and kiss his brow。 He seemed in munion with the genius of the haunt: with his eye he bade farewell to something。

“And I shall see it again;” he said aloud; “in dreams when I sleep by the Ganges: and again in a more remote hour—when another slumber overes me—on the shore of a darker stream!”

Strange words of a strange love! An austere patriot’s passion for his fatherland! He sat dow

孽卵  乖乖女变身黑道公主  寄生女友佐奈  火影之伪暗  胖女孩,有人爱  银之十字架与吸血姬  动漫之梦游三国  女神收藏家  村头那棵樟树  母亲怀了我的孩子  魏晋南北朝史讲演录  田汉代表作(中国现代文学百家系列)  白客  女大学生蜕变记  西湖梦寻  蓝色特快上的秘密-蓝色列车之谜-蓝色列车(英文版)  全景玛雅  哈克贝利·费恩历险记  行者  丁玲短篇集  

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