“I see you and St. John have been quarrelling, Jane,' said Diana, 'during your walk on the moor. But go after him; he is now lingering in the passage expecting you - he will make it up.'I have not much pride under such circumstances: I would always rather be happy than dignified; and I ran after him - he stood at the foot of the stairs.”

“I would always rather be happy than dignified.”

“Jane: "St John dresses well. He is a handsome man: tall, fair, with blue eyes and a Grecian profile."Rochester:(Aside) "Damn him!" (To me) "Did you like him, Jane?”

“Now for the hitch in Jane's character,' he said at last, speaking more calmly than from his look I had expected him to speak. 'The reel of silk has run smoothly enough so far; but I always knew there would come a knot and a puzzle: here it is. Now for vexation, and exasperation, and endless trouble!”

“I scorn your idea of love,' I could not help saying, as I rose up and stood before him, leaning my back against the rock. 'I scorn the counterfeit sentiment you offer: yes, St. John, and I scorn you when you offer it.”

“And if I had loved him less I should have thought his accent and look of exultation savage; but, sitting by him, roused from the nightmare of parting- called to the paradise of union- I thought only of the bliss given to me to drink in so abundant a flow.Again and again he said, “Are you happy, Jane?” And again and again I answered, “Yes.”

“When do you wish to go?”“Early to-morrow morning, sir.”“Well, you must have some money; you can’t travel without money, and I daresay you have not much: I have given you no salary yet. How much have you in the world, Jane?” he asked, smiling.I drew out my purse; a meagre thing it was. “Five shillings, sir.” He took the purse, poured the hoard into his palm, and chuckled over it as if its scantiness amused him. Soon he produced his pocket-book: “Here,” said he, offering me a note; it was fifty pounds, and he owed me but fifteen. I told him I had no change.“I don’t want change; you know that. Take your wages.”I declined accepting more than was my due. He scowled at first; then, as if recollecting something, he said—“Right, right! Better not give you all now: you would, perhaps, stay away three months if you had fifty pounds. There are ten; is it not plenty?”“Yes, sir, but now you owe me five.”“Come back for it, then; I am your banker for forty pounds.”“Mr. Rochester, I may as well mention another matter of business to you while I have the opportunity.”“Matter of business? I am curious to hear it.”“You have as good as informed me, sir, that you are going shortly to be married?”“Yes; what then?”“In that case, sir, Adèle ought to go to school: I am sure you will perceive the necessity of it.”“To get her out of my bride’s way, who might otherwise walk over her rather too emphatically? There’s sense in the suggestion; not a doubt of it. Adèle, as you say, must go to school; and you, of course, must march straight to—the devil?”“I hope not, sir; but I must seek another situation somewhere.”“In course!” he exclaimed, with a twang of voice and a distortion of features equally fantastic and ludicrous. He looked at me some minutes.“And old Madam Reed, or the Misses, her daughters, will be solicited by you to seek a place, I suppose?”“No, sir; I am not on such terms with my relatives as would justify me in asking favours of them—but I shall advertise.”