Jane Eyre

Chapter 72

And issuing from my asylum with precaution， I sought a back-stairs which conducted directly to the kitchen. All in that region was fire and commotion； the soup and fish were in the last stage of projection， and the cook hung over her crucibles in a frame of mind and body threatening spontaneous combustion. In the servants’ hall two coachmen and three gentlemen’s gentlemen stood or sat round the fire； the Abigails， I suppose， were upstairs with their mistresses； the new servants， that had been hired from Millcote， were bustling about everywhere. Threading this chaos， I at last reached the larder； there I took possession of a cold chicken， a roll of bread， some tarts， a plate or two and a knife and fork： with this booty I made a hasty retreat. I had regained the gallery， and was just shutting the back-door behind me， when an accelerated hum warned me that the ladies were about to issue from their chambers. I could not proceed to the schoolroom without passing some of their doors， and running the risk of being surprised with my cargo of victualage； so I stood still at this end， which， being windowless， was dark： quite dark now， for the sun was set and twilight gathering.
Presently the chambers gave up their fair tenants one after another： each came out gaily and airily， with dress that gleamed lustrous through the dusk. For a moment they stood grouped together at the other extremity of the gallery， conversing in a key of sweet subdued vivacity： they then descended the staircase almost as noiselessly as a bright mist rolls down a hill. Their collective appearance had left on me an impression of high-born elegance， such as I had never before received. I found Adèle peeping through the schoolroom door， which she held ajar. “What beautiful ladies！” cried she in English. “Oh， I wish I might go to them！ Do you think Mr. Rochester will send for us by-and-bye， after dinner？”

“No， indeed， I don’t； Mr. Rochester has something else to think about. Never mind the ladies to-night； perhaps you will see them to-morrow： here is your dinner.”

She was really hungry， so the chicken and tarts served to divert her attention for a time. It was well I secured this forage， or both she， I， and Sophie， to whom I conveyed a share of our repast， would have run a chance of getting no dinner at all： every one downstairs was too much engaged to think of us. The dessert was not carried out till after nine and at ten footmen were still running to and fro with trays and coffee-cups. I allowed Adèle to sit up much later than usual； for she declared she could not possibly go to sleep while the doors kept opening and shutting below， and people bustling about. Besides， she added， a message might possibly come from Mr. Rochester when she was undressed；“et alors quel dommage！”

I told her stories as long as she would listen to them； and then for a change I took her out into the gallery. The hall lamp was now lit， and it amused her to look over the balustrade and watch the servants passing backwards and forwards. When the evening was far advanced， a sound of music issued from the drawing-room， whither the piano had been removed； Adèle and I sat down on the top step of the stairs to listen. Presently a voice blent with the rich tones of the instrument； it was a lady who sang， and very sweet her notes were. The solo over， a duet followed， and then a glee： a joyous conversational murmur filled up the intervals. I listened long： suddenly I discovered that my ear was wholly intent on analysing the mingled sounds， and trying to discriminate amidst the confusion of accents those of Mr. Rochester； and when it caught them， which it soon did， it found a further task in framing the tones， rendered by distance inarticulate， into words.
The clock struck eleven. I looked at Adèle， whose head leant against my shoulder； her eyes were waxing heavy， so I took her up in my arms and carried her off to bed. It was near one before the gentlemen and ladies sought their chambers.
The next day was as fine as its predecessor： it was devoted by the party to an excursion to some site in the neighbourhood. They set out early in the forenoon， some on horseback， the rest in carriages； I witnessed both the departure and the return. Miss Ingram， as before， was the only lady equestrian； and， as before， Mr. Rochester galloped at her side； the two rode a little apart from the rest. I pointed out this circumstance to Mrs. Fairfax， who was standing at the window with me—

“You said it was not likely they should think of being married，”said I， “but you see Mr. Rochester evidently prefers her to any of the other ladies.”

“Yes， I daresay： no doubt he admires her.”

“And she him，” I added；“look how she leans her head towards him as if she were conversing confidentially； I wish I could see her face； I have never had a glimpse of it yet.”

“You will see her this evening，” answered Mrs. Fairfax. “I happened to remark to Mr. Rochester how much Adèle wished to be introduced to the ladies， and he said：‘Oh！ let her come into the drawing-room after dinner； and request Miss Eyre to accompany her.’”

“Yes； he said that from mere politeness： I need not go， I am sure，” I answered.
“Well， I observed to him that as you were unused to company， I did not think you would like appearing before so gay a party—all strangers； and he replied， in his quick way—‘Nonsense！ If she objects， tell her it is my particular wish； and if she resists， say I shall come and fetch her in case of contumacy.’”

“I will not give him that trouble，” I answered. “I will go， if nobetter may be； but I don’t like it. Shall you be there， Mrs. Fairfax？”

(End of this chapter)