第4章

From my discourse with Mr. Lloyd, and from the above reported conference between Bessie and Abbot, I gathered enough of hope to suffice as a motive for wishing to get well:a change seemed near, —I desired and waited it in silence. It tarried, however: days and weeks passed: I had regained my normal state of health, but no new allusion was made to the subject over which I brooded. Mrs. Reed surveyed me at times with a severe eye, but seldom addressed me: since my illness, she had drawn a more marked line of separation than ever between me and her own children; appointing me a small closet to sleep in by myself, condemning me to take my meals alone, and pass all my time in the nursery, while my cousins were constantly in the drawing-room. Not a hint, however, did she drop about sending me to school: still I felt an instinctive certainty that she would not long endure me under the same roof with her; for her glance, now more than ever, when turned on me, expressed an insuperable and rooted aversion.

Eliza and Georgiana, evidently acting according to orders, spoke to me as little as possible: John thrust his tongue in his cheek whenever he saw me, and once attempted chastisement; but as I instantly turned against him, roused by the same sentiment of deep ire and desperate revolt which had stirred my corruption before, he thought it better to desist, and ran from me tittering execrations, and vowing I had burst his nose. I had indeed levelled at that prominent feature as hard a blow as my knuckles could inflict; and when I saw that either that or my look daunted him, I had the greatest inclination to follow up my advantage to purpose; but he was already with his mama. I heard him in a blubbering tone commence the tale of how“that nasty Jane Eyre”had flown at him like a mad cat: he was stopped rather harshly-

“Don't talk to me about her, John: I told you not to go near her; she is not worthy of notice; I do not choose that either you or your sisters should associate with her.”

Here, leaning over the banister, I cried out suddenly, and without at all deliberating on my words-

“They are not fit to associate with me.”

Mrs. Reed was rather a stout woman; but, on hearing this strange and audacious declaration, she ran nimbly up the stair, swept me like a whirlwind into the nursery, and crushing me down on the edge of my crib, dared me in an emphatic voice to rise from that place, or utter one syllable during the remainder of the day.

“What would Uncle Reed say to you, if he were alive?”was my scarcely voluntary demand. I say scarcely voluntary, for it seemed as if my tongue pronounced words without my will consenting to their utterance: something spoke out of me over which I had no control.

“What?”said Mrs. Reed under her breath: her usually cold composed grey eye became troubled with a look like fear; she took her hand from my arm, and gazed at me as if she really did not know whether I were child or fiend. I was now in for it.

“My Uncle Reed is in heaven, and can see all you do and think; and so can papa and mama: they know how you shut me up all day long, and how you wish me dead.”

Mrs. Reed soon rallied her spirits: she shook me most soundly, she boxed both my ears, and then left me without a word. Bessie supplied the hiatus by a homily of an hour's length, in which she proved beyond a doubt that I was the most wicked and abandoned child ever reared under a roof. I half believed her; for I felt indeed only bad feelings surging in my breast.

November, December, and half of January passed away. Christmas and the New Year had been celebrated at Gateshead with the usual festive cheer; presents had been interchanged, dinners and evening parties given. From every enjoyment I was, of course, excluded: my share of the gaiety consisted in witnessing the daily apparelling of Eliza and Georgiana, and seeing them descend to the drawing-room, dressed out in thin muslin frocks and scarlet sashes, with hair elaborately ringletted; and afterwards, in listening to the sound of the piano or the harp played below, to the passing to and fro of the butler and footman, to the jingling of glass and china as refreshments were handed, to the broken hum of conversation as the drawing-room door opened and closed. When tired of this occupation, I would retire from the stairhead to the solitary and silent nursery: there, though somewhat sad, I was not miserable. To speak truth, I had not the least wish to go into company, for in company I was very rarely noticed; and if Bessie had but been kind and companionable, I should have deemed it a treat to spend the evenings quietly with her, instead of passing them under the formidable eye of Mrs. Reed, in a room full of ladies and gentlemen. But Bessie, as soon as she had dressed her young ladies, used to take herself off to the lively regions of the kitchen and housekeeper's room, generally bearing the candle along with her. I then sat with my doll on my knee till the fire got low, glancing round occasionally to make sure that nothing worse than myself haunted the shadowy room; and when the embers sank to a dull red, I undressed hastily, tugging at knots and strings as I best might, and sought shelter from cold and darkness in my crib. To this crib I always took my doll; human beings must love something, and, in the dearth of worthier objects of affection, I contrived to find a pleasure in loving and cherishing a faded graven image, shabby as a miniature scarecrow. It puzzles me now to remember with what absurd sincerity I doated on this little toy, half fancying it alive and capable of sensation. I could not sleep unless it was folded in my night-gown; and when it lay there safe and warm, I was comparatively happy, believing it to be happy likewise.

Long did the hours seem while I waited the departure of the company, and listened for the sound of Bessie's step on the stairs: sometimes she would come up in the interval to seek her thimble or her scissors, or perhaps to bring me something by way of supper-a bun or a cheese-cake-then she would sit on the bed while I ate it, and when I had finished, she would tuck the clothes round me, and twice she kissed me, and said,“Good night, Miss Jane.”When thus gentle, Bessie seemed to me the best, prettiest, kindest being in the world; and I wished most intensely that she would always be so pleasant and amiable, and never push me about, or scold, or task me unreasonably, as she was too often wont to do. Bessie Lee must, I think, have been a girl of good natural capacity, for she was smart in all she did, and had a remarkable knack of narrative; so, at least, I judge from the impression made on me by her nursery tales. She was pretty too, if my recollections of her face and person are correct. I remember her as a slim young woman, with black hair, dark eyes, very nice features, and good, clear complexion; but she had a capricious and hasty temper, and indifferent ideas of principle or justice: still, such as she was, I preferred her to any one else at Gateshead Hall.

It was the fifteenth of January, about nine o'clock in the morning: Bessie was gone down to breakfast; my cousins had not yet been summoned to their mama; Eliza was putting on her bonnet and warm garden-coat to go and feed her poultry, an occupation of which she was fond: and not less so of selling the eggs to the housekeeper and hoarding up the money she thus obtained. She had a turn for traffic, and a marked propensity for saving; shown not only in the vending of eggs and chickens, but also in driving hard bargains with the gardener about flower-roots, seeds, and slips of plants; that functionary having orders from Mrs. Reed to buy of his young lady all the products of her parterre she wished to sell: and Eliza would have sold the hair off her head if she could have made a handsome profit thereby. As to her money, she first secreted it in odd corners, wrapped in a rag or an old curl-paper; but some of these hoards having been discovered by the housemaid, Eliza, fearful of one day losing her valued treasure, consented to intrust it to her mother, at a usurious rate of interest-fifty or sixty per cent.; which interest she exacted every quarter, keeping her accounts in a little book with anxious accuracy.

Georgiana sat on a high stool, dressing her hair at the glass, and interweaving her curls with artificial flowers and faded feathers, of which she had found a store in a drawer in the attic. I was making my bed, having received strict orders from Bessie to get it arranged before she returned (for Bessie now frequently employed me as a sort of under-nurserymaid, to tidy the room, dust the chairs, &c.). Having spread the quilt and folded my night-dress, I went to the window-seat to put in order some picture-books and doll's house furniture scattered there; an abrupt command from Georgiana to let her playthings alone (for the tiny chairs and mirrors, the fairy plates and cups, were her property) stopped my proceedings;and then, for lack of other occupation, I fell to breathing on the frost-flowers with which the window was fretted, and thus clearing a space in the glass through which I might look out on the grounds, where all was still and petrified under the influence of a hard frost.

From this window were visible the porter's lodge and the carriage-road, and just as I had dissolved so much of the silver-white foliage veiling the panes as left room to look out, I saw the gates thrown open and a carriage roll through. I watched it ascending the drive with indifference; carriages often came to Gateshead, but none ever brought visitors in whom I was interested; it stopped in front of the house, the door-bell rang loudly, the new-comer was admitted. All this being nothing to me, my vacant attention soon found livelier attraction in the spectacle of a little hungry robin, which came and chirruped on the twigs of the leafless cherry-tree nailed against the wall near the casement. The remains of my breakfast of bread and milk stood on the table, and having crumbled a morsel of roll, I was tugging at the sash to put out the crumbs on the window-sill, when Bessie came running upstairs into the nursery.

“Miss Jane, take off your pinafore; what are you doing there? Have you washed your hands and face this morning?”I gave another tug before I answered, for I wanted the bird to be secure of its bread: the sash yielded; I scattered the crumbs, some on the stone sill, some on the cherry-tree bough, then, closing the window, I replied-

“No, Bessie; I have only just finished dusting.”

“Troublesome, careless child! and what are you doing now? You look quite red, as if you had been about some mischief: what were you opening the window for?”

I was spared the trouble of answering, for Bessie seemed in too great a hurry to listen to explanations; she hauled me to the washstand, inflicted a merciless, but happily brief scrub on my face and hands with soap, water, and a coarse towel; disciplined my head with a bristly brush, denuded me of my pinafore, and then hurrying me to the top of the stairs, bid me go down directly, as I was wanted in the breakfast-room.

I would have asked who wanted me: I would have demanded if Mrs. Reed was there; but Bessie was already gone, and had closed the nursery-door upon me. I slowly descended. For nearly three months, I had never been called to Mrs. Reed's presence;restricted so long to the nursery, the breakfast, dining, and drawing-rooms were become for me awful regions, on which it dismayed me to intrude.

I now stood in the empty hall; before me was the breakfast-room door, and I stopped, intimidated and trembling. What a miserable little poltroon had fear, engendered of unjust punishment, made of me in those days! I feared to return to the nursery, and feared to go forward to the parlour; ten minutes I stood in agitated hesitation; the vehement ringing of the breakfast-room bell decided me; I must enter.

“Who could want me?”I asked inwardly, as with both hands I turned the stiff door-handle, which, for a second or two, resisted my efforts.“What should I see besides Aunt Reed in the apartment? -a man or a woman?”The handle turned, the door unclosed, and passing through and curtseying low, I looked up at-a black pillar! -such, at least,appeared to me, at first sight, the straight, narrow, sable-clad shape standing erect on the rug: the grim face at the top was like a carved mask, placed above the shaft by way of capital.

Mrs. Reed occupied her usual seat by the fireside; she made a signal to me to approach;I did so, and she introduced me to the stony stranger with the words:“This is the little girl respecting whom I applied to you.”

He, for it was a man, turned his head slowly towards where I stood, and having examined me with the two inquisitive-looking grey eyes which twinkled under a pair of bushy brows, said solemnly, and in a bass voice,“Her size is small: what is her age?”

“Ten years.”

“So much?”was the doubtful answer; and he prolonged his scrutiny for some minutes. Presently he addressed me—“Your name, little girl?”

“Jane Eyre, sir.”

In uttering these words I looked up: he seemed to me a tall gentleman; but then I was very little; his features were large, and they and all the lines of his frame were equally harsh and prim.

“Well, Jane Eyre, and are you a good child?”

Impossible to reply to this in the affirmative: my little world held a contrary opinion: I was silent. Mrs. Reed answered for me by an expressive shake of the head, adding soon,“Perhaps the less said on that subject the better, Mr. Brocklehurst.”

“Sorry indeed to hear it! she and I must have some talk;”and bending from the perpendicular, he installed his person in the arm-chair opposite Mrs. Reed's.“Come here,”he said.

I stepped across the rug; he placed me square and straight before him. What a face he had, now that it was almost on a level with mine! what a great nose! and what a mouth! and what large prominent teeth!

“No sight so sad as that of a naughty child,”he began,“especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?”

“They go to hell,”was my ready and orthodox answer.

“And what is hell? Can you tell me that?”

“A pit full of fire.”

“And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?”

“No, sir.”

“What must you do to avoid it?”

I deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable:“I must keep in good health, and not die.”

“How can you keep in good health? Children younger than you die daily. I buried a little child of five years old only a day or two since, —a good little child, whose soul is now in heaven. It is to be feared the same could not be said of you were you to be called hence.”

Not being in a condition to remove his doubt, I only cast my eyes down on the two large feet planted on the rug, and sighed, wishing myself far enough away.

“I hope that sigh is from the heart, and that you repent of ever having been the occasion of discomfort to your excellent benefactress.”

“Benefactress! benefactress!”said I inwardly:“they all call Mrs. Reed my benefactress;if so, a benefactress is a disagreeable thing.”

“Do you say your prayers night and morning?”continued my interrogator.

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you read your Bible?”

“Sometimes.”

“With pleasure? Are you fond of it?”

“I like Revelations, and the book of Daniel, and Genesis and Samuel, and a little bit of Exodus, and some parts of Kings and Chronicles, and Job and Jonah.”

“And the Psalms? I hope you like them?”

“No, sir.”

“No? oh, shocking! I have a little boy, younger than you, who knows six Psalms by heart: and when you ask him which he would rather have, a gingerbread-nut to eat or a verse of a Psalm to learn, he says:‘Oh! the verse of a Psalm! angels sing Psalms;’says he,‘I wish to be a little angel here below;’he then gets two nuts in recompense for his infant piety.”

“Psalms are not interesting,”I remarked.

“That proves you have a wicked heart; and you must pray to God to change it: to give you a new and clean one: to take away your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”

I was about to propound a question, touching the manner in which that operation of changing my heart was to be performed, when Mrs. Reed interposed, telling me to sit down; she then proceeded to carry on the conversation herself.

“Mr. Brocklehurst, I believe I intimated in the letter which I wrote to you three weeks ago, that this little girl has not quite the character and disposition I could wish: should you admit her into Lowood school, I should be glad if the superintendent and teachers were requested to keep a strict eye on her, and, above all, to guard against her worst fault, a tendency to deceit. I mention this in your hearing, Jane, that you may not attempt to impose on Mr. Brocklehurst.”

Well might I dread, well might I dislike Mrs. Reed; for it was her nature to wound me cruelly; never was I happy in her presence; however carefully I obeyed, however strenuously I strove to please her, my efforts were still repulsed and repaid by such sentences as the above. Now, uttered before a stranger, the accusation cut me to the heart; I dimly perceived that she was already obliterating hope from the new phase of existence which she destined me to enter; I felt, though I could not have expressed the feeling, that she was sowing aversion and unkindness along my future path; I saw myself transformed under Mr. Brocklehurst's eye into an artful, noxious child, and what could I do to remedy the injury?

“Nothing, indeed,”thought I, as I struggled to repress a sob, and hastily wiped away some tears, the impotent evidences of my anguish.

“Deceit is, indeed, a sad fault in a child,”said Mr. Brocklehurst;“it is akin to falsehood, and all liars will have their portion in the lake burning with fire and brimstone; she shall, however, be watched, Mrs. Reed. I will speak to Miss Temple and the teachers.”

“I should wish her to be brought up in a manner suiting her prospects,”continued my benefactress;“to be made useful, to be kept humble: as for the vacations, she will, with your permission, spend them always at Lowood.”

“Your decisions are perfectly judicious, madam,”returned Mr. Brocklehurst.“Humility is a Christian grace, and one peculiarly appropriate to the pupils of Lowood; I, therefore, direct that especial care shall be bestowed on its cultivation amongst them. I have studied how best to mortify in them the worldly sentiment of pride; and, only the other day, I had a pleasing proof of my success. My second daughter, Augusta, went with her mama to visit the school, and on her return she exclaimed:‘Oh, dear papa, how quiet and plain all the girls at Lowood look, with their hair combed behind their ears, and their long pinafores, and those little holland pockets outside their frocks-they are almost like poor people's children! and,’said she,‘they looked at my dress and mama's, as if they had never seen a silk gown before.'”

“This is the state of things I quite approve,”returned Mrs. Reed;“had I sought all England over, I could scarcely have found a system more exactly fitting a child like Jane Eyre. Consistency, my dear Mr. Brocklehurst; I advocate consistency in all things.”

“Consistency, madam, is the first of Christian duties; and it has been observed in every arrangement connected with the establishment of Lowood: plain fare, simple attire, unsophisticated accommodations, hardy and active habits; such is the order of the day in the house and its inhabitants.”

“Quite right, sir. I may then depend upon this child being received as a pupil at Lowood, and there being trained in conformity to her position and prospects?”

“Madam, you may: she shall be placed in that nursery of chosen plants, and I trust she will show herself grateful for the inestimable privilege of her election.”

“I will send her, then, as soon as possible, Mr. Brocklehurst; for, I assure you, I feel anxious to be relieved of a responsibility that was becoming too irksome.”

“No doubt, no doubt, madam; and now I wish you good morning. I shall return to Brocklehurst Hall in the course of a week or two: my good friend, the Archdeacon, will not permit me to leave him sooner. I shall send Miss Temple notice that she is to expect a new girl, so that there will be no difficulty about receiving her. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Brocklehurst; remember me to Mrs. and Miss Brocklehurst, and to Augusta and Theodore, and Master Broughton Brocklehurst.”

“I will, madam. Little girl, here is a book entitled the‘Child's Guide,’read it with prayer, especially that part containing‘An account of the awfully sudden death of Martha G—, a naughty child addicted to falsehood and deceit.'”

With these words Mr. Brocklehurst put into my hand a thin pamphlet sewn in a cover,and having rung for his carriage, he departed.

Mrs. Reed and I were left alone: some minutes passed in silence; she was sewing, I was watching her. Mrs. Reed might be at that time some six or seven and thirty; she was a woman of robust frame, square-shouldered and strong-limbed, not tall, and, though stout, not obese: she had a somewhat large face, the under jaw being much developed and very solid; her brow was low, her chin large and prominent, mouth and nose sufficiently regular; under her light eyebrows glimmered an eye devoid of ruth; her skin was dark and opaque, her hair nearly flaxen; her constitution was sound as a bell-illness never came near her; she was an exact, clever manager; her household and tenantry were thoroughly under her control; her children only at times defied her authority and laughed it to scorn;she dressed well, and had a presence and port calculated to set off handsome attire.

Sitting on a low stool, a few yards from her arm-chair, I examined her figure; I perused her features. In my hand I held the tract containing the sudden death of the Liar, to which narrative my attention had been pointed as to an appropriate warning. What had just passed; what Mrs. Reed had said concerning me to Mr. Brocklehurst; the whole tenor of their conversation, was recent, raw, and stinging in my mind; I had felt every word as acutely as I had heard it plainly, and a passion of resentment fomented now within me.

Mrs. Reed looked up from her work; her eye settled on mine, her fingers at the same time suspended their nimble movements.

“Go out of the room; return to the nursery,”was her mandate. My look or something else must have struck her as offensive, for she spoke with extreme though suppressed irritation. I got up, I went to the door; I came back again; I walked to the window, across the room, then close up to her.

Speak I must: I had been trodden on severely, and must turn: but how? What strength had I to dart retaliation at my antagonist? I gathered my energies and launched them in this blunt sentence-

“I am not deceitful: if I were, I should say I loved you; but I declare I do not love you:I dislike you the worst of anybody in the world except John Reed; and this book about the liar, you may give to your girl, Georgiana, for it is she who tells lies, and not I.”

Mrs. Reed's hands still lay on her work inactive: her eye of ice continued to dwell freezingly on mine.

“What more have you to say?”she asked, rather in the tone in which a person might address an opponent of adult age than such as is ordinarily used to a child.

That eye of hers, that voice stirred every antipathy I had. Shaking from head to foot, thrilled with ungovernable excitement, I continued-

“I am glad you are no relation of mine: I will never call you aunt again as long as I live. I will never come to see you when I am grown up; and if any one asks me how I liked you, and how you treated me, I will say the very thought of you makes me sick, and that you treated me with miserable cruelty.”

“How dare you affirm that, Jane Eyre?”

“How dare I, Mrs. Reed? How dare I? Because it is the truth. You think I have no feelings, and that I can do without one bit of love or kindness; but I cannot live so: and you have no pity. I shall remember how you thrust me back-roughly and violently thrust me back-into the red-room, and locked me up there, to my dying day; though I was in agony; though I cried out, while suffocating with distress,‘Have mercy! Have mercy, Aunt Reed!’And that punishment you made me suffer because your wicked boy struck me-knocked me down for nothing. I will tell anybody who asks me questions, this exact tale. People think you a good woman, but you are bad, hard-hearted. You are deceitful!”

Ere I had finished this reply, my soul began to expand, to exult, with the strangest sense of freedom, of triumph, I ever felt. It seemed as if an invisible bond had burst, and that I had struggled out into unhoped-for liberty. Not without cause was this sentiment: Mrs. Reed looked frightened; her work had slipped from her knee; she was lifting up her hands, rocking herself to and fro, and even twisting her face as if she would cry.

“Jane, you are under a mistake: what is the matter with you? Why do you tremble so violently? Would you like to drink some water?”

“No, Mrs. Reed.”

“Is there anything else you wish for, Jane? I assure you, I desire to be your friend.”

“Not you. You told Mr. Brocklehurst I had a bad character, a deceitful disposition; and I'll let everybody at Lowood know what you are, and what you have done.”

“Jane, you don't understand these things: children must be corrected for their faults.”

“Deceit is not my fault!”I cried out in a savage, high voice.

“But you are passionate, Jane, that you must allow: and now return to the nursery-there's a dear-and lie down a little.”

“I am not your dear; I cannot lie down: send me to school soon, Mrs. Reed, for I hate to live here.”

“I will indeed send her to school soon,”murmured Mrs. Reed sotto voce; and gathering up her work, she abruptly quitted the apartment.

I was left there alone-winner of the field. It was the hardest battle I had fought, and the first victory I had gained: I stood awhile on the rug, where Mr. Brocklehurst had stood, and I enjoyed my conqueror's solitude. First, I smiled to myself and felt elate; but this fierce pleasure subsided in me as fast as did the accelerated throb of my pulses. A child cannot quarrel with its elders, as I had done; cannot give its furious feelings uncontrolled play, as I had given mine, without experiencing afterwards the pang of remorse and the chill of reaction. A ridge of lighted heath, alive, glancing, devouring, would have been a meet emblem of my mind when I accused and menaced Mrs. Reed: the same ridge, black and blasted after the flames are dead, would have represented as meetly my subsequent condition, when half-an-hour's silence and reflection had shown me the madness of my conduct, and the dreariness of my hated and hating position.

Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned. Willingly would I now have gone and asked Mrs. Reed's pardon;but I knew, partly from experience and partly from instinct, that was the way to make her repulse me with double scorn, thereby re-exciting every turbulent impulse of my nature.

I would fain exercise some better faculty than that of fierce speaking; fain find nourishment for some less fiendish feeling than that of sombre indignation. I took a book-some Arabian tales; I sat down and endeavoured to read. I could make no sense of the subject; my own thoughts swam always between me and the page I had usually found fascinating. I opened the glass-door in the breakfast-room: the shrubbery was quite still:the black frost reigned, unbroken by sun or breeze, through the grounds. I covered my head and arms with the skirt of my frock, and went out to walk in a part of the plantation which was quite sequestrated; but I found no pleasure in the silent trees, the falling fir-cones, the congealed relics of autumn, russet leaves, swept by past winds in heaps, and now stiffened together. I leaned against a gate, and looked into an empty field where no sheep were feeding, where the short grass was nipped and blanched. It was a very grey day; a most opaque sky,“onding on snaw,”canopied all; thence flakes felt it intervals, which settled on the hard path and on the hoary lea without melting. I stood, a wretched child enough, whispering to myself over and over again,“What shall I do? -what shall I do?”

All at once I heard a clear voice call,“Miss Jane! where are you? Come to lunch!”

It was Bessie, I knew well enough; but I did not stir; her light step came tripping down the path.

“You naughty little thing!”she said.“Why don't you come when you are called?”

Bessie's presence, compared with the thoughts over which I had been brooding, seemed cheerful; even though, as usual, she was somewhat cross. The fact is, after my conflict with and victory over Mrs. Reed, I was not disposed to care much for the nursemaid's transitory anger; and I was disposed to bask in her youthful lightness of heart. I just put my two arms round her and said,“Come, Bessie! don't scold.”

The action was more frank and fearless than any I was habituated to indulge in:somehow it pleased her.

“You are a strange child, Miss Jane,”she said, as she looked down at me;“a little roving, solitary thing: and you are going to school, I suppose?”

I nodded.

“And won't you be sorry to leave poor Bessie?”

“What does Bessie care for me? She is always scolding me.”

“Because you're such a queer, frightened, shy little thing. You should be bolder.”

“What! to get more knocks?”

“Nonsense! But you are rather put upon, that's certain. My mother said, when she came to see me last week, that she would not like a little one of her own to be in your place.—Now, come in, and I've some good news for you.”

“I don't think you have, Bessie.”

“Child! what do you mean? What sorrowful eyes you fix on me! Well, but Missis and the young ladies and Master John are going out to tea this afternoon, and you shall have tea with me. I'll ask cook to bake you a little cake, and then you shall help me to look over your drawers; for I am soon to pack your trunk. Missis intends you to leave Gateshead in a day or two, and you shall choose what toys you like to take with you.”

“Bessie, you must promise not to scold me any more till I go.”

“Well, I will; but mind you are a very good girl, and don't be afraid of me. Don't start when I chance to speak rather sharply; it's so provoking.”

“I don't think I shall ever be afraid of you again, Bessie, because I have got used to you, and I shall soon have another set of people to dread.”

“If you dread them they'll dislike you.”

“As you do, Bessie?”

“I don't dislike you, Miss; I believe I am fonder of you than of all the others.”

“You don't show it.”

“You little sharp thing! you've got quite a new way of talking. What makes you so venturesome and hardy?”

“Why, I shall soon be away from you, and besides”—I was going to say something about what had passed between me and Mrs. Reed, but on second thoughts I considered it better to remain silent on that head.

“And so you're glad to leave me?”

“Not at all, Bessie; indeed, just now I'm rather sorry.”

“Just now! and rather! How coolly my little lady says it! I dare say now if I were to ask you for a kiss you wouldn't give it me: you'd say you'd rather not.”

“I'll kiss you and welcome: bend your head down.”Bessie stooped; we mutually embraced, and I followed her into the house quite comforted. That afternoon lapsed in peace and harmony; and in the evening Bessie told me some of her most enchanting stories, and sang me some of her sweetest songs. Even for me life had its gleams of sunshine.

自从跟劳埃德先生交谈，听到贝茜和阿博特的议论以来，我就渐渐有了足够的希望，盼着好转。一场变化好像就在眼前——我默默地祈盼和等待。然而，它迟迟不来。几天过去了，几周过去了，我已经恢复了正常的健康状态，但我苦思冥想的那个话题再也没有人提过。里德太太有时用严厉的目光俯视着我，但很少对我说话。从我生病以来，她已经把我跟她的孩子泾渭分明地隔开了，指定我独自睡一个小屋，罚我独自吃饭，整天待在保育室，而我的表兄妹们常常在客厅里。她没有丝毫要送我上学的迹象，但我还是有一种本能的把握，她不会长期容忍我跟她同在一个屋檐下，因为她把目光转向我时，眼神里越来越露出了一种难以摆脱、根深蒂固的厌恶之情。

显而易见，伊莱扎和乔治亚娜是奉命行事，尽可能不对我多说话。每次看到我，约翰就伸舌鼓腮，有一次还想惩戒我，但因为我马上跟他针锋相对，怒火中烧、拼命反抗的情绪唤醒了我，先前就是这种情绪让我义无反顾。所以，他觉得还是克制为好，就一边辱骂，一边从我身边跑走，信誓旦旦地说我打烂了他的鼻子。我的拳头的确瞄准了那个突出的器官，指关节尽可能握紧，用力出击。当我看到这个动作或我的神情吓住他时，我真想乘胜追击，达到目的，但他已经跑到了他的妈妈那儿。我听到他开始哭诉着编造说“那个恶毒的简·爱”如何像疯猫一样扑向他，他却被厉声喝住——

“不要对我说起她，约翰。我告诉过你不要走近她，她不值得注意，我不喜欢你或你的姐妹跟她交往。”

这时，我倾身在栏杆上，突然不假思索大声喊道——

“他们不配跟我交往。”

里德太太又矮又胖，但是，听到这种不同寻常放肆无礼的宣告，她敏捷地跑上楼，像一阵旋风似的把我带进保育室，把我压倒在我的小床沿上，断然质问我这一天剩下的时间还敢不敢再从床上爬起来，敢不敢再说半个字。

“里德舅舅要是活着，会对你说什么？”这几乎是我不由自主的问话。我之所以说几乎不由自主，是因为我的舌头好像没有经过意志的同意就吐出了这句话，这些话从嘴里说出来我控制不了。

“什么？”里德太太压低声音说。她平常冷漠镇静的灰色眼睛变得困惑不安，露出了恐惧般的神情。她松开那只抓住我胳膊的手，盯着我，好像真的不知道我是孩子还是魔鬼。我现在是一不做二不休。

“里德舅舅在天堂，你做什么、想什么，他都能看到，我的爸爸妈妈也能看到。他们知道你是如何把我整天关着，也知道你是多么盼着我死。”

里德太太立刻醒过神来，拼命摇晃我，打了我两个耳光，然后一声不吭地离开了我。贝茜喋喋不休说教了一个小时，补上了这个空当，毫无疑问地证明我是家里养大的最淘气、最放纵的孩子。我对她半信半疑，因为我的确感到胸中汹涌奔腾的只有恶感。

十一月、十二月和一月上半月都过去了。在盖茨黑德府，像往常一样喜气洋洋地庆祝圣诞节和元旦，相互交换礼物，举行宴会和晚会。当然，每种享乐我都被排除在外，我的那份快乐在于目睹伊莱扎和乔治亚娜每天的装束，看到她们身穿薄纱上衣，腰束鲜红腰带，肩披精心制作的鬈发，下楼走到客厅，随后倾听楼下弹奏钢琴和竖琴的声音，倾听管家和仆人来来往往的脚步声，倾听上点心时杯盘磕碰的叮当声，倾听客厅门开关导致的断断续续嗡嗡嘤嘤的谈话声。当我听烦了这种消遣，会离开楼梯顶，走到孤寂的保育室。那儿尽管有点儿悲哀，但我并不难过。说实话，我最不想去凑热闹，因为就是去凑热闹，也很少会有人注意我。只要贝茜仁慈友善，我认为跟她在一起安静度过那些夜晚是一种享受，而不是在满屋小姐、先生中间，在里德太太令人敬畏的目光下，度过那些夜晚。但是，贝茜一给小姐们穿好衣服，就常常离开，到厨房、女管家室这些热闹地方去，并且总是一路端着蜡烛。随后，我把洋娃娃放在膝上，坐在那儿，直到炉火渐渐暗淡，我不时地环顾四周，想查明除了我自己之外，没有更可怕的东西出没这个影影绰绰的房间。等余烬变成暗红色时，我就匆匆用尽力气宽衣解带，钻进小床，躲避寒冷和黑暗。我总是把洋娃娃带到小床上，人必须喜欢点什么，在缺乏更值得爱的东西时，我就设法在珍爱一个褪色布娃娃中找到乐趣，尽管它破旧得像一个小稻草人。想起我当时带着何等荒谬的真诚宠爱这个小玩具，现在让我迷惑不解，我有些相信它有血有肉有感觉。除非把它裹进睡袍，我才能入睡，当它暖融融安然躺在那儿时，我更为高兴，相信它也会高兴。

我好像要等很久，客人们才离开，然后等着听贝茜上楼的脚步声，有时她会在中间阶段上楼来找顶针或剪刀，说不定会端上一个小圆面包或奶酪饼什么的作为我的晚饭——然后我吃时，她会坐在床上。我吃完后，她会给我掖好衣服，亲我两下，说：“晚安，简小姐。”因此，贝茜温和时，在我看来，她是世界上最出色、最漂亮、最善良的人。我最热切地希望她永远都会那样和蔼可亲，从来不像惯常做的那样把我推来推去，从来不骂我，从来不无缘无故责备我。我认为贝茜·李一定是一个很有天赋的女孩，因为她无论干什么都聪明伶俐，还有讲故事的非凡本领。至少从保育室故事留给我的印象可以这样判断。要是我对她的脸庞和外表记得没错的话，她也非常漂亮。我记得她是一个身材苗条的少妇，乌黑的头发、乌黑的眼睛、端庄的五官和光洁的皮肤，但她脾气任性急躁，对原则性和正义感漠不关心。然而，尽管如此，在盖茨黑德府，我最喜欢她。

那是一月十五日上午九点钟左右，贝茜下楼吃早饭去了，我的表兄妹们还没有被召到他们的妈妈身边。伊莱扎正在戴着帽子，穿上暖和的园艺服，去喂她的家禽，这是她喜欢做的事儿，并不亚于把鸡蛋卖给女管家，把因此所得的钱聚集起来。她有做买卖的本事，有显著的存钱癖，不仅表现在出售鸡蛋和小鸡方面，还表现在跟园艺工为花茎、花籽和插枝拼命讨价还价上。里德太太曾经吩咐园艺工，伊莱扎想卖掉的所有花圃产品，他都要买下来。要是能因此大赚一笔，伊莱扎愿意卖掉自己的头发。至于她的钱，她起初用破布或旧鬈发纸包好，隐藏在偏僻的角落，但其中有些隐藏的东西被女仆发现了，伊莱扎害怕有一天丢失她贵重的珍藏，同意托付给她的母亲，收取高利贷利息——百分之五六十，每个季度索要一次利息，同时把账记在一个小本上，一分钱都不错。

乔治亚娜坐在一只高凳上，对着镜子梳理自己的头发，把一些人造花和褪色羽毛插在鬈发上，这是她在阁楼的一个抽屉里存放的东西中发现的。我正在铺床，根据贝茜的严令，我要在她回来之前收拾好（因为贝茜现在常常把我当成保育室的保姆，让我收拾房间、掸去椅子上的灰尘等等）。我摊开被子、叠好睡衣之后，走到窗台边，整理好散放在那儿的一些图画书和玩偶家具，这时突然传来了乔治亚娜让我不要动她的玩具（因为这些小椅和镜子、小盘和小杯都是她的财产）的命令，这使我停止了行动。于是，我没有别的事儿，就开始向凝结在窗户上的霜花哈气，因此在玻璃上化开了一块地方，透过这块地方可以眺望外面的地面，那儿的一切在严霜的影响下都石化似的一动不动。

我从这扇窗户望去，门房和马车道清晰可见。我在蒙着好多银白色霜花的窗玻璃上哈出一块可以向外张望的地方时，只见大门呼地打开，一辆马车滚滚而过。我漠不关心地望着它驶上车道，尽管马车经常到盖茨黑德府来，但从来没有送来过我感兴趣的什么客人。马车在房前停下来，门铃大作，新来的客人被请了进去。这一切跟我无关。茫然之中，我马上被一种更活泼的景象吸引住了。那是一只饥饿的小知更鸟，小鸟飞过来，叽叽喳喳叫着落在窗扉附近靠墙的一棵无叶樱桃树的细枝上。早饭吃剩的面包和牛奶放在桌子上，我捻碎一小块面包，正用力拽窗框把面包屑放到窗台上，贝茜跑上楼梯来，奔进了保育室。

“简小姐，脱掉你的连胸围裙。你在那儿干什么？你今天早上洗脸、洗手了吗？”我又拽了一下才回答，因为我想确保让这只鸟吃到面包。窗框松动了，我撒出了面包屑，有些落在石头窗台上，有些落在樱桃的树枝上。随后，我关上窗户，回答说——

“没有，贝茜，我刚刚才掸过灰尘。”

“你这讨厌马虎的孩子！你眼下在干什么？你脸色通红，好像干了什么坏事，你刚才开窗干什么？”

贝茜好像匆匆忙忙，等不及听我解释了，省去了我回答的麻烦。她一把将我拖到洗脸架前，朝我的脸上和手上擦上肥皂和水，用一块粗糙的毛巾用力搓，尽管狠心，但幸好时间不长。她又用一把粗毛刷刷了刷我的头，脱下我的连胸围裙，然后匆匆把我带到楼梯顶，吩咐我马上下楼，因为早餐室有人找我。

我本想问问是谁找我，想知道里德太太是不是在那儿，但是，贝茜已经走了，并关上了保育室的门。我慢慢地下楼，近三个月来，我从来没有被叫到里德太太的面前。因为在保育室被关了那么久，早餐室、餐室和客厅对我来说都成了可怕的地方，所以我一进去就感到惊慌。

我现在站在空荡荡的大厅里，面前就是早餐室门。我停住脚步，吓得浑身颤抖。那些日子里不公平的惩罚引起的恐惧使我变成了多么可怜的胆小鬼！我既不敢返回保育室，也不敢向前走到客厅。我犹豫不安，站了有十分钟。早餐室猛烈的铃声使我做出了决定：我必须进去。

“谁可能会找我呢？”我一边在心里问，一边用两只手去转动硬邦邦的门把手，用劲转了一、两秒钟都转不动。“除了屋里的里德舅妈之外，我还会见到谁呢？——是男人还是女人？”把手转动，门开了，我走进去，卑微地行了个屈膝礼，抬起头，看到——一根黑柱！至少，乍一看，我觉得那个人一身黑衣，直立在地毯上，笔直狭窄的形状就像一根黑柱。顶端那张阴沉的脸就像是一副雕刻的面具，作为柱头安在柱身上。

里德太太坐在炉边常坐的那个座位上，她招手让我走近，我走近前来。她用这句话把我介绍给那个面无表情的陌生人：“这就是我向你提出申请的那个小女孩。”

他——因为是一个男人——慢慢地把头转向我站的地方，看上去两只好奇的灰眼睛在一双浓眉下熠熠闪光。他仔细打量了我一番后，用低沉的声音严肃地说：“她个子小，几岁了？”

“十岁了。”

“有这么大吗？”他狐疑地反问道。他又仔细打量了几分钟。过了一会儿，他冲我问道——“你叫什么名字，小女孩？”

“简·爱，先生。”

说完这些话，我抬起头。在我看来，他是一个身材高大的先生，不过，那时我个子很小。他的五官硕大，五官和骨架上的所有线条都是同样的粗糙和古板。

“啊，简·爱，你是一个好孩子吗？”

我对此不可能肯定回答，我那个小世界的人都持相反的看法，所以我沉默不语。里德太太意味深长地摇摇头，替我作了回答，同时又马上补充说：“也许这个话题说得越少越好，布罗克赫斯特先生。”

“听到这么说，真遗憾！她和我必须谈一下。”说着，他弯下直立的身体，坐进里德太太对面的扶手椅里。“过来。”他说。

我走过地毯，他让我端端正正地站在他的面前。此刻，他的脸跟我的脸差不多水平，那是一张多么可怕的脸！多么大的鼻子！多么大的嘴巴！还有多么突出的牙齿！“一个淘气孩子的样子最让人伤心，”他开口说道，“尤其是淘气的小女孩。你知道坏人死后去哪儿了吗？”

“他们下地狱，”我的回答既迅速又传统。

“地狱是什么？你能告诉我吗？”

“是一个火坑。”

“你喜欢掉进那个火坑，永远在那儿燃烧吗？”

“不喜欢，先生。”

“你必须怎么才能避免呢？”

我深思熟虑了一会儿，终于做出了令人不快的回答：“我必须身体好，才能不死。”

“你怎么能身体好呢？比你小的孩子每天都会死去。一两天前，我刚埋葬了一个只有五岁的孩子——一个好孩子，他的灵魂现在上了天堂。你要是被召到那儿，恐怕就不能这样说了。”

我无法消除他的疑虑，只好垂下目光，看着他那双站在地毯上的大脚，叹了口气，盼望自己远离。

“我希望你的叹息是发自内心，希望你后悔不该给你那位大好的恩人带来不快。”“恩人！恩人！”我心里说道，“他们都说里德太太是我的恩人，要是这样，恩人就是一个让人讨厌的东西。”

“你早晚都祷告吗？”盘问我的人继续问道。

“是的，先生。”

“你读《圣经》吗？”

“有时读。”

“高兴读吗？你喜欢吗？”

“我喜欢《启示录》、《但以理书》、《创世记》和《撒母耳记》、《出埃及记》的一小部分、《列王记》和《历代志》的几部分，还有《约伯记》和《约拿书》。”

“还有《赞美诗》呢？我想你喜欢吧？”

“不喜欢，先生。”

“不喜欢？噢，让人震惊！我有一个小男孩，比你年龄小，他会背六首《赞美诗》。当你问他愿意吃姜饼还是背一首《赞美诗》时，他会说：‘噢！背《赞美诗》！天使们都唱《赞美诗》。’他还说，‘我希望做一个尘世间的小天使。’随后，他会得到两块姜饼，这是对他小小年纪虔诚的报酬。”

“《赞美诗》没意思。”我说。

“这证明你心眼邪恶，你必须向上帝祈祷改变它，送你一颗新的干净的心，带走那颗铁石心肠，给你一颗血肉之心。”

我正要问他换心的手术怎么做，这时里德太太插话，吩咐我坐下来。随后，她自己接着谈了起来。

“布罗克赫斯特先生，我相信三星期前我在给你的信里明确表示过，这个小女孩完全没有我期望的那种品格和性情。要是你允许她进洛伍德学校，我就会乐意请求学监和老师们严格监督她，尤其要提防她最坏的毛病，就是说谎的倾向。简，我当着你的面说这件事，就是让你不要再试图欺骗布罗克赫斯特先生。”

我有理由害怕，也有理由不喜欢里德太太，因为残忍伤害我是她的本性，我在她的面前从来不会高兴。无论我怎样小心翼翼言听计从，无论我怎样千方百计讨好她，我的努力仍然受到排斥，得到的只是以上那些话。现在，她在陌生人面前，说出那种指责话，伤透了我的心。我模糊感到，她已经摧毁了我对新生活怀有的希望，这是她注定让我进入的一种生活。尽管我不能表达自己的感情，但我觉得，她在我未来的道路上播着反感和无情的种子，我看到自己在布罗克赫斯特先生的心目中变成了一个刁钻讨厌的孩子，我还能做什么来补救这种伤害呢？

“的确没有。”我一边想，一边尽力忍住哭泣，慌忙擦掉几滴眼泪，那是我极度痛苦、软弱无力的见证。

“在一个孩子的身上，欺骗的确是一种可悲的缺点，”布罗克赫斯特先生说，“它类似于说谎，所有的说谎者都有份落入燃烧着硫黄烈火的湖里。不过，里德太太，我们会监视她。我会对坦普尔小姐和老师们说的。”

“我希望要按照适合她前程的方式来培养她，”我的恩人接着说道，“使她成为有用的人，保持谦恭，至于假期，经你许可，她可以一直在洛伍德度过。”

“太太，你的决定是完全英明的，”布罗克赫斯特先生回答，“谦恭是基督教徒的一种美德，而且是特别适用于洛伍德学生的一种美德。因此，我吩咐要特别注重在学生们当中培养这种品质。我已经研究过如何最好地抑制他们世俗的矫情。就在几天前，我得到了证明我成功的可喜证据。我的二女儿奥古斯塔跟她的妈妈参观了那个学校，一回来她就大声说道：‘噢，亲爱的爸爸，看上去洛伍德学校的女孩都是多么文静，多么朴素！头发都梳到了耳后，戴着长长的连胸围裙，上衣外面都有亚麻细布小口袋——她们差不多像穷人的孩子们一样！还有，’她说，‘她们都看着我和妈妈的衣服，好像她们以前从来没有见过丝绸衣服一样。'”

“这种状况我非常赞成，”里德太太答道，“就是我找遍整个英国，几乎也难以找到一个更适合像简·爱这种孩子待的机构了。持之以恒，亲爱的布罗克赫斯特先生，我主张一切事物都要持之以恒。”

“夫人，持之以恒是基督徒的首要职责。跟洛伍德学校有关的各种安排都要遵守，简单食物、朴素衣着、质朴住处、勤劳积极的习惯，这就是学校和寄宿者的一般日程。”

“完全正确，先生。那我可以相信这个孩子被收为洛伍德的学生，会根据她的地位和前途进行训练吗？”

“太太，你可以这样相信。她将会被放在精选花草的苗圃里，我相信她会因无比荣幸被选中而心存感激。”

“布罗克赫斯特先生，那我会尽快送她来的，因为我确切告诉你，我觉得想急于放下这个令人厌烦的指责。”

“当然，当然，太太。那现在我要向你告别了。我要过一两星期才返回布罗克赫斯特府。我那位当副主教的好友不会早早放我走。我会致信通知坦普尔小姐，又要给她送去一个女孩，这样接收这个女孩就不会有任何困难了。再见。”

“再见，布罗克赫斯特先生，代我向布罗克赫斯特太太和小姐，向奥古斯塔、西奥多和布劳顿·布罗克赫斯特少爷问好。”

“我一定，太太。小女孩，这儿有一本书，书名叫《儿童指南》，祷告后再读，尤其是含有‘叙述一个沉迷于说谎和欺骗的淘气娃娃玛莎·格——可怕暴死’的那个部分。”

说完这些话，布罗克赫斯特先生把一本装有封皮的薄薄小册子放进我的手里，拉铃让人备好马车，就离开了。

只剩下了我和里德太太，默默地过了几分钟。她在做针线活，我在望着她。当时，里德太太可能有三十六七岁。她体格健壮，肩膀宽阔，四肢强壮，个子不高，矮胖结实，但并不肥胖。她的下颌过于发达，非常壮实，所以她的脸也有些大。她的眉毛低，下巴大而突出，嘴巴和鼻子足够端庄；她浅色的眉毛下面闪动着缺乏同情的眼睛；她的皮肤黝黑灰暗，头发接近亚麻色；她的身体非常健康——她从不染病；她是一位精明严谨的管理人员，她的家庭和财产租赁完全由她控制；只有她的孩子们偶尔会蔑视她的权威，嗤之以鼻；她穿着讲究，她的仪态和举止适合衬托漂亮的盛装。

我坐在离她的扶手椅有几码远的一只矮凳上，打量她的身材，仔细端详她的五官。我手里拿着那本含有说谎者暴死的小册子，他们曾把这个故事作为一种适当的警告，引起我的注意。刚才发生的情景、里德太太对布罗克赫斯特先生说过的有关我的话、他们谈话的整个过程，都一一回响在我的耳边，刺在我的心里，生疼生疼的。每句话我都听得清清楚楚，我感到每句话都刺耳，此时我的内心燃起了怨恨之火。

里德太太从针线活上抬起头来，目光定定地看着我的目光，手指同时暂停了飞针走线的活动。

“从这屋里出去，回到保育室。”她命令道。我的神情或别的什么想必使她讨厌，因为她说话时尽管克制，但还是极其恼怒。我站起来，走到门口，又返回来，穿过房间，走到了窗边，随后靠近她。

我必须说：我曾被严重践踏，我必须转变，但怎么转变呢？我有什么力量来反击对手呢？我鼓起劲儿，直截了当地发起了反击——

“我不骗人。我要是骗人，就会说我爱你，可是，我声明我不爱你。除了约翰·里德之外，世界上我最不喜欢的就是你。这本有关说谎者的书，你可以送给你的女儿乔治亚娜，因为说谎的是她，而不是我。”

里德太太的手仍然放在她的活上一动不动，冰一样的目光继续冷漠地盯着我。

“你还有什么要说的？”她问。那种腔调是在对一个成年对手说话，而不是通常对孩子使用的腔调。

她的眼睛和声音激起了我所有的反感。我激动得难以控制，浑身颤抖，继续说道——

“我很高兴你不是我的亲戚。我这辈子再也不会叫你舅妈了。长大后，我也绝不会来看你。要是有人问我喜不喜欢你、你怎样对待我，我就会说，一想起你，就使我恶心，你对待我卑鄙又残忍。”

“你怎么敢下这种断言，简·爱？”

“我怎么敢，里德太太？我怎么敢？因为这是事实。你以为我没有感情，我没有一点爱或亲情也能过，可是，我不能这样生活。你没有怜悯心。我会记住你怎么把我猛推回去——粗暴猛烈地把我推回去——推进红屋，锁在里面，到死都不会忘记。尽管我苦恼不安，尽管我一边痛苦憋气，一边大声叫喊：‘可怜可怜我！可怜可怜我吧，里德舅妈！’还有你使我受到的惩罚，因为你的坏孩子打了我——无缘无故把我打倒在地。无论是谁问我，我都要把这件事的经过告诉他。人们以为你是一个好女人，但你很坏，心肠硬。你才骗人呢！”

我还没答完这个问题，内心就开始舒畅、欢跃。那是一种我从来没有感到过的最奇怪的自由感和胜利感，一种无形的束缚好像已经冲破了，我争取到了出乎意料的自由。这种情感并不是无缘无故的。里德太太一副恐惧的神色，针线活从她的膝上滑落，她举起双手，身体来回摇晃，甚至脸都扭曲了，好像她要哭了似的。

“简，你弄错了。你怎么了？你为什么颤抖得这么厉害？你想喝水吗？”

“不，里德太太。”

“你想要别的什么吗，简？我确切告诉你，我希望做你的朋友。”

“你不会。你对布罗克赫斯特先生说我人品不好，生性骗人。我要让洛伍德的每个人都知道你是什么人，都干过什么。”

“简，这些事儿你不懂。孩子们有缺点必须纠正。”

“欺骗不是我的缺点！”我粗鲁地高声嚷道。

“可是，简，你脾气急躁，这你必须承认。现在回到保育室去吧——宝贝儿——躺一小会儿。”

“我不是你的宝贝儿，我不能躺下。里德太太，快送我去学校吧，因为我不喜欢住在这儿。”

“我真的要快送她去上学。”里德太太低声咕哝着，收起针线活，突然走出了房间。

我独自留在那儿——成了战场的胜利者。这是我打过的最艰难的一仗，也是我获得的第一次胜利。我在布罗克赫斯特先生曾经站立的地毯上站了一会儿，享受着征服者的那种孤独。首先，我暗自微笑，洋洋得意，但是，就像加速的脉搏会减弱一样，这种狂喜很快就平息了。一个孩子像我这样跟长辈们吵架，像我这样不受控制地发泄自己的怒火，事后会体验到懊悔和寒心的痛苦。我在指责和威胁里德太太时，心里就像一片点燃的荒山野岭，火光闪耀，来势汹汹，但经过半小时的沉默和反思，我感到自己的疯狂行为和我恨别人又被别人恨的处境凄凉时，内心的这片荒岭的火焰熄灭了，成了一片黑乎乎的焦土。

我第一次尝到了报仇雪恨的滋味，就像芳香四溢的美酒一样，喝下时热辣辣的，风味独特，但过后回味却有金属的腥味，具有腐蚀性，就像中毒似的。此刻，我愿意去请求里德太太原谅，但我知道——一部分是出于经验，一部分是出于本能——那样做会使她更加憎恶和蔑视我，因此又会激起我本性中各种不安的冲动。

我乐意发挥比言辞激烈更出色的本领，乐意培养比忧郁愤慨更好的感情。我拿了一本书——是阿拉伯故事书，我坐下来，想尽力看，却看不懂，自己的思绪总是游荡在我和平常感到引人入胜的书页之间。我打开早餐室的玻璃门，只见灌木丛一动不动，尽管风和日丽，但严霜却覆盖大地。我用衣服的下摆蒙住头和胳膊，然后出去，走在一片非常僻静的树林里。但是，我发现在寂静的树木、落下的冷杉球果、被风吹成一堆现在又冻结在一起的黄褐色秋叶的凝固遗物中没有任何乐趣。我斜靠在一扇大门上，望着快空荡荡的田野，那儿没有羊群在寻食，那儿的短草冻坏变白。这是一个灰蒙蒙的日子，大雪前的天空极其混沌，笼罩了所有的一切，不时地落下一些雪花，落在坚硬的小路上，落在灰白的草地上，没有融化。我站在那儿，可怜巴巴的，一遍又一遍地对自己低声说道：“我怎么办？——我怎么办啊？”

突然，我听到一个清晰的声音喊道：“简小姐，你在哪儿？来吃午饭吧！”

是贝茜，我一清二楚，但是，我没有动。她轻盈的脚步顺着小路轻快地走来。

“你这淘气的小东西！”她说，“喊你，为什么你不来？”

跟刚才一直萦绕在脑海里的想法相比，看来贝茜的到来令人愉快，即使她像往常一样有些生气。事实上，跟里德太太发生冲突，并战胜她之后，我不大在乎保姆暂时的愤怒，倒是在她朝气蓬勃的轻松心情中感到舒适。我只是用胳膊抱住她，说道：“好了，贝茜！别骂了。”

这个动作比我习惯放纵的任何举动都更直率大胆，不知何故，这使贝茜感到高兴。

“简小姐，你是一个奇怪的孩子，”她低头看着我说，“一个独来独往的小东西。我想你要上学去了吧？”

我点了点头。

“离开可怜的贝茜，你不难过吗？”

“贝茜在乎我什么？她总是在骂我。”

“因为你是这样一个古怪、害怕、羞怯的小东西。你应该更大胆些。”

“什么！是要多挨几次打吗？”

“胡说！不过，你有些受气，这确定无疑。我的母亲上周来看我时说，她不想让自己的小孩子像你一样。——好了，进来吧，我有一个好消息要告诉你，”

“我想你没有，贝茜。”

“孩子！你这话什么意思？你盯着我的那双眼睛是多么伤感！好了，太太、小姐们和约翰少爷今天下午都出去喝茶了，你可以跟我一起喝茶。我会请厨师给你烤一只小蛋糕，然后你要帮我检查一下你的抽屉，因为我很快就要为你打点箱子。太太想让你过一两天离开盖茨黑德府，你可以挑选自己喜欢的玩具带走。”

“贝茜，你必须答应我走前不再骂我。”

“好，我答应。可要记住你是一个很好的孩子，不要怕我。我碰巧说话有些尖刻时，你不要吃惊，那很让人生气。”

“贝茜，我想我再也不会怕你了，因为我对你已经习惯了，很快就要怕另一群人了。”

“要是你怕他们，他们就会不喜欢你。”

“像你一样吗，贝茜？”

“我不是不喜欢你，小姐，我相信，我比其他所有人都喜欢你。”

“你没有露出这一点。”

“你这机灵的小东西！你说话的方式完全不一样了。是什么让变得如此冒险和鲁莽？”

“啊，我很快就要离开你，再说，”——我正要说我和里德太太之间发生的事儿，但转念一想，我认为在那个问题上还是保持沉默更好。

“这么说，你高兴离开我？”

“根本不是，贝茜，真的，眼下我有些难过。”

“眼下！有些！我的小姐说得多么镇定！我现在敢说，要是我请求你吻一下，你就不会给我。你会说你宁愿不给。”

“我会吻你，而且非常高兴。你低一下头。”贝茜弯下腰，我们相互拥抱，随后我跟她走进了屋里，感到莫大安慰。那个下午在平静与和谐中过去了，到了晚上，贝茜给我讲了一些最迷人的故事，给我唱了几首最甜美的歌儿。即使对我来说，生活也还是有几缕阳光的。