n
him married, and beheld his bride happy?"

"Humph! Not exactly. Your witch's skill is rather at fault sometimes."

"What the devil have you seen, then?"

"Never mind: I came here to inquire, not to confess. Is it known that
Mr. Rochester is to be married?"

"Yes; and to the beautiful Miss Ingram."

"Shortly?"

"Appearances would warrant that conclusion: and, no doubt (though, with
an audacity that wants chastising out of you, you seem to question it),
they will be a superlatively happy pair. He must love such a handsome,
noble, witty, accomplished lady; and probably she loves him, or, if not
his person, at least his purse. I know she considers the Rochester
estate eligible to the last degree; though (God pardon me!) I told her
something on that point about an hour ago which made her look wondrous
grave: the corners of her mouth fell half an inch. I would advise her
blackaviced suitor to look out: if another comes, with a longer or
clearer rent-roll,--he's dished--"

"But, mother, I did not come to hear Mr. Rochester's fortune: I came to
hear my own; and you have told me nothing of it."

"Your fortune is yet doubtful: when I examined your face, one trait
contradicted another. Chance has meted you a measure of happiness: that
I know. I knew it before I came here this evening. She has laid it
carefully on one side for you. I saw her do it. It depends on yourself
to stretch out your hand, and take it up: but whether you will do so, is
the problem I study. Kneel again on the rug."

"Don't keep me long; the fire scorches me."

{She did not stoop towards me, but only gazed, leaning back in her chair:
p190.jpg}

I knelt. She did not stoop towards me, but only gazed, leaning back in
her chair. She began muttering,--

"The flame flickers in the eye; the eye shines like dew; it looks soft
and full of feeling; it smiles at my jargon: it is susceptible;
impression follows impression through its clear sphere; where it ceases
to smile, it is sad; an unconscious lassitude weighs on the lid: that
signifies melancholy resulting from loneliness. It turns from me; it
will not suffer further scrutiny; it seems to deny, by a mocking glance,
the truth of the discoveries I have already made,--to disown the charge
both of sensibility and chagrin: its pride and reserve only confirm me in
my opinion. The eye is favourable.

"As to the mouth, it delights at times in laughter; it is disposed to
impart all that the