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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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59 their reverend relative, and had been conducting a rummaging scrutiny of the room upstairs, while he transacted business with the housekeeper, questioned the laundress, and lectured the superintendent. They now proceeded to address divers remarks and reproofs to Miss Smith, who was charged with the care of the linen and the inspection of the dormitories: but I had no time to listen to what they said; other matters called off and enchained my attention. Hitherto, while gathering up the discourse of Mr. Brocklehurst and Miss Temple, I had not, at the same time, neglected precautions to secure my personal safety; which I thought would be effected, if I could only elude observation. To this end, I had sat well back on the form, and while seeming to be busy with my sum, had held my slate in such a manner as to conceal my face: I might have escaped notice, had not my treacherous slate somehow happened to slip from my hand, and falling with an obtrusive crash, directly drawn every eye upon me; I knew it was all over now, and, as I stooped to pick up the two fragments of slate, I rallied my forces for the worst. It came. ‘A careless girl!’ said Mr. Brocklehurst, and immediately after-‘It is the new pupil, I perceive.’ And before I could draw breath, ‘I must not forget I have a word to say respecting her.’ Then aloud: how loud it seemed to me! ‘Let the child who broke her slate come forward!’ Of my own accord I could not have stirred; I was paralysed: but the two great girls who sat on each side of me, set me on my legs and pushed me towards the dread judge, and then Miss Temple gently assisted me to his very feet, and I caught her whispered counsel‘Don’t be afraid, Jane, I saw it was an accident; you shall not be punished.’ The kind whisper went to my heart like a dagger. ‘Another minute, and she will despise me for a hypocrite,’ thought I; and an impulse of fury against Reed, Brocklehurst, and Co. bounded in my pulses at the conviction. I was no Helen Burns. ‘Fetch that stool,’ said Mr. Brocklehurst, pointing to a very high one from which a monitor had just risen: it was brought. ‘Place the child upon it.’ And I was placed there, by whom I don’t know: I was in no condition to note particulars; I was only aware that they had hoisted me up to the height of Mr. Brocklehurst’s nose, that he was within a yard of me, and that a spread of shot orange and purple silk pelisses and a cloud of silvery plumage extended and waved below me. Mr. Brocklehurst hemmed. ‘Ladies,’ said he, turning to his family, ‘Miss Temple, teachers, and children, you all see this girl?’ Of course they did; for I felt their eyes directed like burning-glasses against my scorched skin. |
