“Far from it.  I was tormented by the contrast between my idea and my handiwork:  in each case I had imagined something which I was quite powerless to realise.”

“Not quite:  you have secured the shadow of your thought; but no more, probably.  You had not enough of the artist’s skill and science to give it full being:  yet the drawings are, for a school-girl, peculiar.  As to the thoughts, they are elfish.  These eyes in the Evening Star you must have seen in a dream.  How could you make them look so clear, and yet not at all brilliant? for the planet above quells their rays.  And what meaning is that in their solemn depth?  And who taught you to paint wind?  There is a high gale in that sky, and on this hill-top.  Where did you see Latmos?  For that is Latmos.  There! put the drawings away!”

I had scarce tied the strings of the portfolio, when, looking at his watch, he said abruptly —

“It is nine o’clock:  what are you about, Miss Eyre, to let Adele sit up so long?  Take her to bed.”

Adele went to kiss him before quitting the room:  he endured the caress, but scarcely seemed to relish it more than Pilot would have done, nor so much.

“I wish you all good-night, now,” said he, making a movement of the hand towards the door, in token that he was tired of our company, and wished to dismiss us.  Mrs. Fairfax folded up her knitting:  I took my portfolio:  we curtseyed to him, received a frigid bow in return, and so withdrew.

“You said Mr. Rochester was not strikingly peculiar, Mrs. Fairfax,” I observed, when I rejoined her in her room, after putting Adele to bed.

“Well, is he?”

“I think so:  he is very changeful and abrupt.”

“True:  no doubt he may appear so to a stranger, but I am so accustomed to his manner, I never think of it; and then, if he has peculiarities of temper, allowance should be made.”

“Why?”

“Partly because it is his nature —­ and we can none of us help our nature; and partly because he has painful thoughts, no doubt, to harass him, and make his spirits unequal.”

“What about?”

“Family troubles, for one thing.”

“But he has no family.”

“Not now, but he has had —­ or, at least, relatives.  He lost his elder brother a few years since.”

“His elder brother?”

“Yes.  The present Mr. Rochester has not been very long in possession of the property; only about nine years.”

“Nine years is a tolerable time.  Was he so very fond of his brother as to be still inconsolable for his loss?”