Jane Eyre

She turned as I drew near, and looked at me haughtily: her eyes seemed to demand, »What can the creeping creature want now?« and when I said, in a low voice, »Mr. Rochester,« she made a movement as if tempted to order me away. I remember her appearance at the moment, – it was very graceful and very striking: she wore a morning robe of sky-blue crape; a gauzy azure scarf was twisted in her hair. She had been all animation with the game, and irritated pride did not lower the expression of her haughty lineaments.
    »Does that person want you?« she inquired of Mr. Rochester; and Mr. Rochester turned to see who the ›person‹ was. He made a curious grimace, – one of his strange and equivocal demonstrations – threw down his cue and followed me from the room.
    »Well, Jane?« he said, as he rested his back against the school-room door, which he had shut.
    »If you please, sir, I want leave of absence for a week or two.«
    »What to do? – Where to go?«
    »To see a sick lady who has sent for me.«
    »What sick lady? – Where does she live?«
    »At Gateshead, in ––shire.«
    »––shire? That is a hundred miles off! Who may she be that sends for people to see her that distance?«
    »Her name is Reed, sir, – Mrs. Reed.«
    »Reed of Gateshead? There was a Reed of Gateshead, a magistrate.«
    »It is his widow, sir.«
    »And what have you to do with her? How do you know her?«
    »Mr. Reed was my uncle, – my mother's brother.«
    »The deuce he was! You never told me that before: you always said you had no relations.«
    »None that would own me, sir. Mr. Reed is dead, and his wife cast me off.«
    »Why?«
    »Because I was poor, and burdensome, and she disliked me.«
    »But Reed left children? – you must have cousins? Sir George Lynn was talking of a Reed of Gateshead, yesterday – who, he said, was one of the veriest rascals on town; and Ingram was mentioning a Georgiana Reed of the same place, who was much admired for her beauty, a season or two ago, in London.«
    »John Reed is dead, too, sir: he ruined himself and half-ruined his family, and is supposed to have committed suicide. The news so shocked his mother that it brought on an apoplectic attack.«
    »And what good can you do her? Nonsense, Jane! I would never think of running a hundred miles to see an old lady who will, perhaps, be dead before you reach her: besides, you say she cast you off.«
    »Yes, sir, but that is long ago; and when her circumstances were very different: I could not be easy to neglect her wishes now.«
    »How long will you stay?«
    »As short a time as possible, sir.«
    »Promise me only to stay a week –«
    »I had better not pass my word: I might be obliged to break it.«
    »At all events you
will
come back: you will not be induced under any pretext to take up a permanent residence with her?«
    »Oh, no! I shall certainly return if all be well.«
    »And who goes with you? You don't travel a hundred miles alone.«
    »No, sir, she has sent her coachman.«
    »A person to be trusted?«
    »Yes, sir, he has lived ten years in the family.«
    Mr. Rochester meditated. »When do you wish to go?«
    »Early to-morrow morning, sir.«
    »Well, you must have some money; you can't travel without money, and I dare say you have not much: I have given you no salary yet. How much have you in the world, Jane?« he asked, smiling.
    I drew out my purse; a meagre thing it was. »Five shillings, sir.« He took the purse, poured the hoard into his palm and chuckled over it as if its scantiness pleased him. Soon he produced his pocket-book: »Here,« said he, offering me a note: it was fifty pounds, and he owed me but fifteen. I told him I had no change.
    »I don't want change: 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