“I hope not, sir; but I must seek another situation somewhere.”

“In course!” he exclaimed, with a twang of voice and a distortion of features equally fantastic and ludicrous.  He looked at me some minutes.

“And old Madam Reed, or the Misses, her daughters, will be solicited by you to seek a place, I suppose?”

“No, sir; I am not on such terms with my relatives as would justify me in asking favours of them —­ but I shall advertise.”

“You shall walk up the pyramids of Egypt!” he growled.  “At your peril you advertise!  I wish I had only offered you a sovereign instead of ten pounds.  Give me back nine pounds, Jane; I’ve a use for it.”

“And so have I, sir,” I returned, putting my hands and my purse behind me.  “I could not spare the money on any account.”

“Little niggard!” said he, “refusing me a pecuniary request!  Give me five pounds, Jane.”

“Not five shillings, sir; nor five pence.”

“Just let me look at the cash.”

“No, sir; you are not to be trusted.”

“Jane!”

“Sir?”

“Promise me one thing.”

“I’ll promise you anything, sir, that I think I am likely to perform.”

“Not to advertise:  and to trust this quest of a situation to me.  I’ll find you one in time.”

“I shall be glad so to do, sir, if you, in your turn, will promise that I and Adele shall be both safe out of the house before your bride enters it.”

“Very well! very well!  I’ll pledge my word on it.  You go to-morrow, then?”

“Yes, sir; early.”

“Shall you come down to the drawing-room after dinner?”

“No, sir, I must prepare for the journey.”

“Then you and I must bid good-bye for a little while?”

“I suppose so, sir.”

“And how do people perform that ceremony of parting, Jane?  Teach me; I’m not quite up to it.”

“They say, Farewell, or any other form they prefer.”

“Then say it.”

“Farewell, Mr. Rochester, for the present.”

“What must I say?”

“The same, if you like, sir.”

“Farewell, Miss Eyre, for the present; is that all?”

“Yes?”

“It seems stingy, to my notions, and dry, and unfriendly.  I should like something else:  a little addition to the rite.  If one shook hands, for instance; but no —­ that would not content me either.  So you’ll do no more than say Farewell, Jane?”

“It is enough, sir:  as much good-will may be conveyed in one hearty word as in many.”

“Very likely; but it is blank and cool —­ ‘Farewell.’”

“How long is he going to stand with his back against that door?” I asked myself; “I want to commence my packing.”  The dinner-bell rang, and suddenly away he bolted, without another syllable:  I saw him no more during the day, and was off before he had risen in the morning.