tep on that grass…grown track； the water running in the vale was the one lulling sound of the hour and scene； we might well then start when a gay voice； sweet as a silver bell； exclaimed—
“Good evening； Mr。 Rivers。 And good evening； old Carlo。 Your dog is quicker to recognise his friends than you are； sir； he pricked his ears and wagged his tail when I was at the bottom of the field； and you have your back towards me now。”
It was true。 Though Mr。 Rivers had started at the first of those musical accents； as if a thunderbolt had split a cloud over his head； he stood yet； at the close of the sentence； in the same attitude in which the speaker had surprised him—his arm resting on the gate； his face directed towards the west。 He turned at last； with measured deliberation。 A vision； as it seemed to me； had risen at his side。 There appeared； within three feet of him； a form clad in pure white—a youthful； graceful form： full； yet fine in contour； and when； after bending to caress Carlo； it lifted up its head； and threw back a long veil； there bloomed under his glance a face of perfect beauty。 Perfect beauty is a strong expression； but I do not retrace or qualify it： as sweet features as ever the temperate clime of Albion moulded； as pure hues of rose and lily as ever her humid gales and vapoury skies generated and screened； justified； in this instance； the term。 No charm was wanting； no defect was perceptible； the young girl had regular and delicate lineaments； eyes shaped and coloured as we see them in lovely pictures； large； and dark； and full； the long and shadowy eyelash which encircles a fine eye with so soft a fascination； the pencilled brow which gives such clearness； the white smooth forehead； which adds such repose to the livelier beauties of tint and ray； the cheek oval； fresh； and smooth； the lips； fresh too； ruddy； healthy； sweetly formed； the even and gleaming teeth without flaw； the small dimpled chin； the ornament of rich； plenteous tresses—all advantages； in short； which； bined； realise the ideal of beauty； were fully hers。 I wondered； as I looked at this fair creature： I admired her with my whole heart。 Nature had surely formed her in a partial mood； and； forgetting her usual stinted step…mother dole of gifts； had endowed this； her darling； with a grand…dame’s bounty。
What did St。 John Rivers think of this earthly angel？ I naturally asked myself that question as I saw him turn to her and look at her； and； as naturally； I sought the answer to the inquiry in his countenance。 He had already withdrawn his eye from the Peri； and was looking at a humble tuft of daisies which grew by the wicket。
“A lovely evening； but late for you to be out alone；” he said； as he crushed the snowy heads of the closed flowers with his foot。
“Oh； I only came home from S…” （she mentioned the name of a large town some twenty miles distant） “this afternoon。 Papa told me you had opened your school； and that the new mistress was e； and so I put on my bon after tea； and ran up the valley to see her： this is she？” pointing to me。
“It is；” said St。 John。
“Do you think you shall like Morton？” she asked of me； with a direct and naive simplicity of tone and manner； pleasing； if child…like。
“I hope I shall。 I have many inducements to do so。”
“Did you find your scholars as attentive as you expected？”
“Quite。”
“Do you like your house？”
“Very much。”
“Have I furnished it nicely？”
“Very nicely； indeed。”
“And made a good choice of an attendant for you in Alice Wood？”
“You have indeed。 She is teachable and handy。” （This then； I thought； is Miss Oliver； the heiress； favoured； it seems； in the gifts of fortune； as well as in those of nature！ What happy bination of the plas presided over her birth； I wonder？）
“I shall e up and help you to teach sometimes；” she added。 “It will be a change for me to visit you now and then； and I like a change。 Mr。 Rivers； I have been SO gay during my stay at S…。 night； or rather this morning； I was dancing till two o’clock。 The—th regiment are stationed there since the riots； and the officers are the most agreeable men in the world： they put all our young knife…grinders and scissor merchants to shame。”
It seemed to me that Mr。 St。 John’s under lip protruded； and his upper lip curled a moment。 His mouth certainly looked a good deal pressed； and the lower part of his face unusually stern and square； as the laughing girl gave him this information。 He lifted his gaze； too； from the daisies； and turned it on her。 An unsmiling； a searching； a meaning gaze it was。 She answered it with a second laugh； and laughter well became her youth； her roses； her dimples； her bright eyes。
As he stood； mute and grave； she again fell to caressing Carlo。 “Poor Carlo loves me；” said she。 “He is not stern and distant to his friends； and if he could speak； he would not be silent。”
As she patted the dog’s head； bending with native grace before his young and austere master； I saw a glow rise to that master’s face。 I saw his solemn eye melt with sudden fire； and flicker with resistless emotion。 Flushed and kindled thus； he looked nearly as beautiful for a man as she for a woman。 His chest heaved once； as if his large heart； weary of despotic constriction； had expanded； despite the will； and made a vigorous bound for the attainment of liberty。 But he curbed it； I think； as a resolute rider would curb a rearing steed。 He responded neither by word nor movement to the gentle advances made him。
“Papa says you never e to see us now；” continued Miss Oliver； looking up。 “You are quite a stranger at Vale Hall。 He is alone this evening； and not very well： will you return with me and visit him？”
“It is not a seasonable hour to intrude on Mr。 Oliver；” answered St。 John。
“Not a seasonable hour！ But I declare it is。 It is just the hour when papa most wants pany： when the works are closed and he has no business to occupy him。 Now； Mr。 Rivers； do e。 Why are you so very shy； and so very sombre？” She filled up the hiatus his silence left by a reply of her own。
“I forgot！” she exclaimed； shaking her beautiful curled head； as if shocked at herself。 “I am so giddy and thoughtless！ Do excuse me。 It had slipped my memory that you have good reasons to be indisposed for joining in my chatter。 Diana and Mary have left you； and Moor House is shut up； and you are so lonely。 I am sure I pity you。 Do e and see papa。”
“Not to…night； Miss Rosamond； not to…night。”
Mr。 St。 John spoke almost like an automaton： himself only knew the effort it cost him thus to refuse。
“Well； if you are so obstinate； I will leave you； for I dare not stay any longer： the dew begins to fall。 Good evening！”
She held out her hand。 He just touched it。 “Good evening！” he repeated； in a voice low and hollow as an echo。 She turned； but in a moment returned。
“Are you well？” she asked。 Well might she put the question： his face was blanched as her gown。
“Quite well；” he enunciated； and； with a bow； he left the gate。 She went one way； he another。 She turned twice to gaze after him as she tripped fairy…like down the field； he； as he strode firmly across； never turned at all。
This spectacle of another’s suffering and sacrifice rapt my thoughts from exclusive meditation on my own。 Diana Rivers had designated her brother “inexorable as death。” She had not exaggerated。
Chapter 32
I continued the labours of the village…school as actively and faithfully as I could。 It was truly hard work at first。 Some time elapsed before； with all my efforts； I could prehend my scholars and their nature。 Wholly untaught； with faculties quite torpid； they seemed to me hopelessly dull； and； at first sight； all dull alike： but I soon found I was mistaken。 There was a difference amongst them as amongst the educated； and when I got to know them； and they me； this difference rapidly developed itself。 Their amazement at me； my language； my rules； and ways； once subsided； I found some of these heavy…looking； gaping rustics wake up into sharp…witted girls enough。 Many showed themselves obliging； and amiable too； and I discovered amongst them not a few examples of natural politeness； and innate self…respect； as well as of excellent capacity； that won both my goodwill and my admiration。 These soon took a pleasure in doing their work well； in keeping their persons neat； in learning their tasks regularly； in acquiring quiet and orderly manners。 The rapidity of their progress； in some instances； was even surprising； and an honest and happy pride I took in it： besides； I began personally to like some of the best girls； and they liked me。 I had amongst my scholars several farmers’ daughters： young women grown； almost。 These could already read； write； and sew； and to them I taught the elements of grammar； geography； history； and the finer kinds of needlework。 I found estimable characters amongst them—characters desirous of information and disposed for improvement—with whom I passed many a pleasant evening hour in their own homes。 Their parents then （the farmer and his wife） loaded me with attentions。 There was an enjoyment in accepting their simple kindness； and in repaying it by a consideration—a scrupulous regard to their feelings—to which they were not； perhaps； at all times accustomed； and which both charmed and benefited them； because； while it elevated them in their own eyes； it made them emulous to merit the deferential treatment they received。
I felt I became a favourite in the neighbourhood。 Whenever I went out； I heard on all sides cordial salutations； and was weled with friendly smiles。 To live amidst general regard； though it be but the regard of working people； is like “sitting in sunshine； calm and sweet；” serene inward feelings bud and bloom under the ray。 At this period of my life； my heart far oftener swelled with thankfulness than sank with dejection： and yet； reader； to tell you all； in the midst of this calm； this useful existence—after a day passed in honourable exertion amongst my scholars； an evening spent in drawing or reading contentedly alone—I used to rush into strange dreams at night： dreams many…coloured； agitated； full of the ideal； the stirring； the stormy—dreams where； amidst unusual scenes； charged with adventure； with agitating risk and romantic chance； I still again and again met Mr。 Rochester； always at some exciting crisis； and then the sense of being in his arms； hearing his voice； meeting his eye； touching his hand and cheek； loving him； being loved by him—the hope of passing a lifetime at his side； would be renewed； with all its first force and fire。 Then I awoke。 Then I recalled where I was； and how situated。 Then I rose up on my curtainless bed； trembling and quivering； and then the still； dark night witnessed the convulsion of despair； and heard the burst of passion。 By nine o’clock the next morning I was punctually opening the school； tranquil； settled； prepared for the steady duties of the day。
Rosamond Oliver kept her word in ing to visit me。 Her call at the school was generally made in the course of her morning ride。 She would canter up to the door on her pony； followed by a mounted livery servant。 Anything more exquisite than her appearance； in her purple habit； with her Amazon’s cap of black velvet placed gracefully ab