you know that. Take your wages.’
I declined accepting more than was my due. He scowled at first; then, as if recollecting something, he said –
‘Right, right! Better not give you all now: you would, perhaps, stay away three months if you had fifty pounds. There are ten; is it not plenty?’
‘Yes, sir, but now you owe me five.’
‘Come back for it, then; I am your banker for forty pounds.’
‘Mr Rochester, I may as well mention another matter of business to you while I have the opportunity.’
‘Matter of business? I’m curious to hear it.’
‘You have as good as informed me, sir, that you are going shortly to be married?’
‘Yes; what then?’
‘In that case, sir, Adèle ought to go to school: I am sure you will perceive the necessity of it.’
‘To get her out of my bride’s way, who might otherwise walk over her rather too emphatically? There’s sense in the suggestion; not a doubt of it. Adèle, as you say, must go to school; and you, of course, must march straight to – the devil?’
‘I hope not, sir; but I must seek another situation somewhere.’
‘In course!’3 he exclaimed, with a twang of voice and a distortion of features equally fantastic and ludicrous. He looked at me some minutes.
‘And old Madam Reed, or the misses, her daughters, will be solicited by you to seek a place, I suppose?’
‘No, sir; I am not on such terms with my relatives as would justify me in asking favours of them – but I shall advertise.’
‘You shall walk up the Pyramids of Egypt!’ he growled. ‘At your peril you advertise! I wish I had only offered you a sovereign instead of ten pounds. Give me back nine pounds, Jane; I’ve a use for it.’
‘And so have I, sir,’ I returned, putting my hands and my purse behind me. ‘I could not spare the money on any account.’
‘Little niggard!’ said he, ‘refusing me a pecuniary request! Give me five pounds, Jane.’
‘Not five shillings, sir; nor five pence.’
‘Just let me look at the cash.’
‘No, sir; you are not to be trusted.’
‘Jane!’
‘Sir?’
‘Promise me one thing.’
‘I’ll promise you anything, sir, that I think I am likely to perform.’
‘Not to advertise: and to trust this quest of a situation to me. I’ll find you one in time.’
‘I shall be glad so to do, sir, if you, in your turn, will promise that I and Adèle shall be both safe out of the house before your bride enters it.’
‘Very well! very well! I’ll pledge my word on it. You go to-morrow, then?’
‘Yes, sir; early.’
‘Shall you come down to the drawing-room after dinner?’
‘No, sir, I must prepare for the journey.’
‘Then you and I must bid good-bye for a little while?’
‘I suppose so, sir.’
‘And how do people perform that ceremony of parting, Jane? Teach me; I’m not quite up to it.’
‘They say, Farewell, or any other form they prefer.’
‘Then say it.’
‘Farewell, Mr Rochester, for the present.’
‘What must I say?’
‘The same, if you like, sir.’
‘Farewell, Miss Eyre, for the present; is that all?’
‘Yes.’
‘It seems stingy, to my notions, and dry, and unfriendly. I should like something else: a little addition to the rite. If one shook hands, for instance; but no – that would not content me either. So you’ll do no more than say Farewell, Jane?’
‘It is enough, sir: as much good-will may be conveyed in one hearty word as in many.’
‘Very likely; but it is blank and cool – “Farewell.”’
‘How long is he going to stand with his back against that door?’ I asked myself; ‘I want to commence my packing.’ The dinner-bell rang, and suddenly away he bolted, without another syllable: I saw him no more during the day, and was off before he had risen in the morning.
I reached the lodge at Gateshead about five o’clock in the afternoon of the first of May: I stepped in there before going up to the hall. It was very clean and neat: the ornamental windows were hung with little white curtains; the floor was spotless; the grate and fire-irons were burnished bright, and the fire burnt clear. Bessie sat on the hearth, nursing her last-born, and Robert and his sister played quietly in a corner.
‘Bless you! – I knew you would come!’ exclaimed Mrs Leaven, as I entered.
‘Yes, Bessie,’ said I, after I had kissed her; ‘and I trust I am not too late. How is Mrs Reed? – Alive still, I hope.’
‘Yes, she is alive; and more sensible and collected than she was. The doctor says she may linger a week or