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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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- Стр. 344/445
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"
Well
,
if
you
are
not
ambitious
,
you
are
--
"
He
paused
.
"
What
?
"
"
I
was
going
to
say
,
impassioned
:
but
perhaps
you
would
have
misunderstood
the
word
,
and
been
displeased
.
I
mean
,
that
human
affections
and
sympathies
have
a
most
powerful
hold
on
you
.
I
am
sure
you
can
not
long
be
content
to
pass
your
leisure
in
solitude
,
and
to
devote
your
working
hours
to
a
monotonous
labour
wholly
void
of
stimulus
:
any
more
than
I
can
be
content
,
"
he
added
,
with
emphasis
,
"
to
live
here
buried
in
morass
,
pent
in
with
mountains
--
my
nature
,
that
God
gave
me
,
contravened
;
my
faculties
,
heaven-bestowed
,
paralysed
--
made
useless
.
You
hear
now
how
I
contradict
myself
.
I
,
who
preached
contentment
with
a
humble
lot
,
and
justified
the
vocation
even
of
hewers
of
wood
and
drawers
of
water
in
God
's
service
--
I
,
His
ordained
minister
,
almost
rave
in
my
restlessness
.
Well
,
propensities
and
principles
must
be
reconciled
by
some
means
.
"
He
left
the
room
.
In
this
brief
hour
I
had
learnt
more
of
him
than
in
the
whole
previous
month
:
yet
still
he
puzzled
me
.
Diana
and
Mary
Rivers
became
more
sad
and
silent
as
the
day
approached
for
leaving
their
brother
and
their
home
.
They
both
tried
to
appear
as
usual
;
but
the
sorrow
they
had
to
struggle
against
was
one
that
could
not
be
entirely
conquered
or
concealed
.
Diana
intimated
that
this
would
be
a
different
parting
from
any
they
had
ever
yet
known
.
It
would
probably
,
as
far
as
St.
John
was
concerned
,
be
a
parting
for
years
:
it
might
be
a
parting
for
life
.
"
He
will
sacrifice
all
to
his
long-framed
resolves
,
"
she
said
:
"
natural
affection
and
feelings
more
potent
still
.
St.
John
looks
quiet
,
Jane
;
but
he
hides
a
fever
in
his
vitals
.
You
would
think
him
gentle
,
yet
in
some
things
he
is
inexorable
as
death
;
and
the
worst
of
it
is
,
my
conscience
will
hardly
permit
me
to
dissuade
him
from
his
severe
decision
:
certainly
,
I
can
not
for
a
moment
blame
him
for
it
.
It
is
right
,
noble
,
Christian
:
yet
it
breaks
my
heart
!
"
And
the
tears
gushed
to
her
fine
eyes
.
Mary
bent
her
head
low
over
her
work
.
"
We
are
now
without
father
:
we
shall
soon
be
without
home
and
brother
,
"
she
murmured
,
At
that
moment
a
little
accident
supervened
,
which
seemed
decreed
by
fate
purposely
to
prove
the
truth
of
the
adage
,
that
"
misfortunes
never
come
singly
,
"
and
to
add
to
their
distresses
the
vexing
one
of
the
slip
between
the
cup
and
the
lip
.
St.
John
passed
the
window
reading
a
letter
.
He
entered
.
