hat! out already?' said she. 'I see you are an early riser.' I went up to her, and was received with an affable kiss and shake of the hand.
'How do you like Thornfield?' she asked. I told her I liked it very much.
'Yes,' she said, 'it is a pretty place; but I fear it will be getting out of order, unless Mr. Rochester should take it into his head to come and reside here permanently; or, at least, visit it rather oftener: great houses and fine grounds require the presence of the proprietor.'
'Mr. Rochester!' I exclaimed. 'Who is he?'
'The owner of Thornfield,' she responded quietly. 'Did you not know he was called Rochester?'
Of course I did not- I had never heard of him before; but the old lady seemed to regard his existence as a universally understood fact, with which everybody must be acquainted by instinct.
'I thought,' I continued, 'Thornfield belonged to you.'
'To me? Bless you, child; what an idea! To me! I am only the housekeeper- the manager. To be sure I am distantly related to the Rochesters by the mother's side, or at least my husband was; he was a clergyman, incumbent of Hay- that little village yonder on the hill- and that church near the gates was his. The present Mr. Rochester's mother was a Fairfax, second cousin to my husband: but I never presume on the connection- in fact, it is nothing to me; I consider myself quite in the light of an ordinary housekeeper: my employer is always civil, and I expect nothing more.'
'And the little girl- my pupil!'
'She is Mr. Rochester's ward; he commissioned me to find a believe. Here she comes, with her "bonne," as she calls her nurse.'
The enigma then was explained: this affable and kind little widow was no great dame; but a dependant like myself. I did not like her the worse for that; on the contrary, I felt better pleased than ever.
The equality between her and me was real; not the mere result of condescension on her part: so much the better- my position was all the freer.
As I was meditating on this discovery, a
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