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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
become
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
accompany
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
grew
more
urgent
in
requiring
their
accomplishment
:
and
I
,
like
a
fool
,
never
thought
of
resisting
him
--
I
could
not
resist
him
.
One
day
I
had
come
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
companion
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
composed
.
"
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
completing
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
.
"
