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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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64 us and on the approaching figure, which we at once recognised as Miss Temple. ‘I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre,’ said she; ‘I want you in my room; and as Helen Burns is with you, she may come too.’ We went; following the superintendent’s guidance, we had to thread some intricate passages, and mount a staircase before we reached her apartment; it contained a good fire, and looked cheerful. Miss Temple told Helen Burns to be seated in a low arm-chair on one side of the hearth, and herself taking another, she called me to her side. ‘Is it all over?’ she asked, looking down at my face. ‘Have you cried your grief away?’ ‘I am afraid I never shall do that.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because I have been wrongly accused; and you, ma’am, and everybody else, will now think me wicked.’ ‘We shall think you what you prove yourself to be, my child. Continue to act as a good girl, and you will satisfy us.’ ‘Shall I, Miss Temple?’ ‘You will,’ said she, passing her arm round me. ‘And now tell me who is the lady whom Mr. Brocklehurst called your benefactress?’ ‘Mrs. Reed, my uncle’s wife. My uncle is dead, and he left me to her care.’ ‘Did she not, then, adopt you of her own accord?’ ‘No, ma’am; she was sorry to have to do it: but my uncle, as I have often heard the servants say, got her to promise before he died that she would always keep me.’ ‘Well now, Jane, you know, or at least I will tell you, that when a criminal is accused, he is always allowed to speak in his own defence. You have been charged with falsehood; defend yourself to me as well as you can. Say whatever your memory suggests as true; but add nothing and exaggerate nothing.’ I resolved, in the depth of my heart, that I would be most moderate-most correct; and, having reflected a few minutes in order to arrange coherently what I had to say, I told her all the story of my sad childhood. Exhausted by emotion, my language was more subdued than it generally was when it developed that sad theme; and mindful of Helen’s warnings against the indulgence of resentment, I infused into the narrative far less of gall and wormwood than ordinary. Thus restrained and simplified, it sounded more credible: I felt as I went on that Miss Temple fully believed me. In the course of the tale I had mentioned Mr. Lloyd as having come to see me after the fit: for I never forgot the, to me, frightful episode of the red-room: in detailing which, my excitement was sure, in some degree, to break bounds; for nothing could soften in my recollection the spasm of agony which clutched my heart when Mrs. Reed spurned my wild supplication for pardon, and locked me a second time in the dark and haunted chamber. |
