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1"If you did, it would be in such a grave, quiet manner, I should mistake it for sense. Do you never laugh, Miss Eyre?
2Don't trouble yourself to answer--I see you laugh rarely; but you can laugh very merrily: believe me, you are not
3naturally austere, any more than I am naturally vicious. The Lowood constraint still clings to you somewhat; controlling
4your features, muffling your voice, and restricting your limbs; and you fear in the presence of a man and a brother--or
5father, or master, or what you will--to smile too gaily, speak too freely, or move too quickly: but, in time, I think
6you will learn to be natural with me, as I find it impossible to be conventional with you; and then your looks and
7movements will have more vivacity and variety than they dare offer now. I see at intervals the glance of a curious sort
8of bird through the close-set bars of a cage: a vivid, restless, resolute captive is there; were it but free, it would
9soar cloud-high. You are still bent on going?" "It has struck nine, sir." "Never mind,--wait a minute: Adèle is not
10ready to go to bed yet. My position, Miss Eyre, with my back to the fire, and my face to the room, favours observation.
11While talking to you, I have also occasionally watched Adèle (I have my own reasons for thinking her a curious
12study,--reasons that I may, nay, that I shall, impart to you some day). She pulled out of her box, about ten minutes
13ago, a little pink silk frock; rapture lit her face as she unfolded it; coquetry runs in her blood, blends with her
14brains, and seasons the marrow of her bones. 'Il faut que je l'essaie!' cried she, 'et à l'instant même!' and she rushed
15out of the room. She is now with Sophie, undergoing a robing process: in a few minutes she will re-enter; and I know
16what I shall see,--a miniature of Céline Varens, as she used to appear on the boards at the rising of--But never mind
17that. However, my tenderest feelings are about to receive a shock: such is my presentiment; stay now, to see whether it
18will be realised." Ere long, Adèle's little foot was heard tripping across the hall. She entered, transformed as her
19guardian had predicted. A dress of rose-coloured satin, very short, and as full in the skirt as it could be gathered,
20replaced the brown frock she had previously worn; a wreath of rosebuds circled her forehead; her feet were dressed in
21silk stockings and small white satin sandals. "Est-ce que ma robe va bien?" cried she, bounding forwards; "et mes
22souliers? et mes bas? Tenez, je crois que je vais danser!" And spreading out her dress, she chasséed across the room
23till, having reached Mr. Rochester, she wheeled lightly round before him on tip-toe, then dropped on one knee at his
24feet, exclaiming-- "Monsieur, je vous remercie mille fois de votre bonté;" then rising, she added, "C'est comme cela que
25maman faisait, n'est-ce pas, monsieur?" "Pre-cise-ly!" was the answer; "and, 'comme cela,' she charmed my English gold
26out of my British breeches' pocket. I have been green, too, Miss Eyre,--ay, grass green: not a more vernal tint freshens
27you now than once freshened me. My Spring is gone, however, but it has left me that French floweret on my hands, which,
28in some moods, I would fain be rid of. Not valuing now the root whence it sprang; having found that it was of a sort
29which nothing but gold dust could manure, I have but half a liking to the blossom, especially when it looks so
30artificial as just now. I keep it and rear it rather on the Roman Catholic principle of expiating numerous sins, great
31or small, by one good work. I'll explain all this some day. Good-night."
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