“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 daresay 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 amused 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 am 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, Adele ought to go to school:  I am sure you will perceive the necessity of it.”

“To get her out of my bride’s way, who might otherwise walk over her rather too emphatically?  There’s sense in the suggestion; not a doubt of it.  Adele, as you say, must go to school; and you, of course, must march straight to —­ the devil?”