“Never mind, Mr. Rochester:  it is in no way interesting to you to know that.  Answer me truly once more.  Do you think Miss Ingram will not suffer from your dishonest coquetry?  Won’t she feel forsaken and deserted?”

“Impossible! —­ when I told you how she, on the contrary, deserted me:  the idea of my insolvency cooled, or rather extinguished, her flame in a moment.”

“You have a curious, designing mind, Mr. Rochester.  I am afraid your principles on some points are eccentric.”

“My principles were never trained, Jane:  they may have grown a little awry for want of attention.”

“Once again, seriously; may I enjoy the great good that has been vouchsafed to me, without fearing that any one else is suffering the bitter pain I myself felt a while ago?”

“That you may, my good little girl:  there is not another being in the world has the same pure love for me as yourself —­ for I lay that pleasant unction to my soul, Jane, a belief in your affection.”

I turned my lips to the hand that lay on my shoulder.  I loved him very much —­ more than I could trust myself to say —­ more than words had power to express.

“Ask something more,” he said presently; “it is my delight to be entreated, and to yield.”

I was again ready with my request.  “Communicate your intentions to Mrs. Fairfax, sir:  she saw me with you last night in the hall, and she was shocked.  Give her some explanation before I see her again.  It pains me to be misjudged by so good a woman.”

“Go to your room, and put on your bonnet,” he replied.  “I mean you to accompany me to Millcote this morning; and while you prepare for the drive, I will enlighten the old lady’s understanding.  Did she think, Janet, you had given the world for love, and considered it well lost?”

“I believe she thought I had forgotten my station, and yours, sir.”

“Station! station! —­ your station is in my heart, and on the necks of those who would insult you, now or hereafter. —­ Go.”

I was soon dressed; and when I heard Mr. Rochester quit Mrs. Fairfax’s parlour, I hurried down to it.  The old lady, had been reading her morning portion of Scripture —­ the Lesson for the day; her Bible lay open before her, and her spectacles were upon it.  Her occupation, suspended by Mr. Rochester’s announcement, seemed now forgotten:  her eyes, fixed on the blank wall opposite, expressed the surprise of a quiet mind stirred by unwonted tidings.  Seeing me, she roused herself:  she made a sort of effort to smile, and framed a few words of congratulation; but the smile expired, and the sentence was abandoned unfinished.  She put up her spectacles, shut the Bible, and pushed her chair back from the table.