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1A splendid Midsummer shone over England: skies so pure, suns so radiant as were then seen in long succession, seldom
2favour even singly, our wave-girt land. It was as if a band of Italian days had come from the South, like a flock of
3glorious passenger birds, and lighted to rest them on the cliffs of Albion. The hay was all got in; the fields round
4Thornfield were green and shorn; the roads white and baked; the trees were in their dark prime; hedge and wood,
5full-leaved and deeply tinted, contrasted well with the sunny hue of the cleared meadows between. On Midsummer-eve,
6Adèle, weary with gathering wild strawberries in Hay Lane half the day, had gone to bed with the sun. I watched her drop
7asleep, and when I left her, I sought the garden. It was now the sweetest hour of the twenty-four:--"Day its fervid
8fires had wasted," and dew fell cool on panting plain and scorched summit. Where the sun had gone down in simple
9state--pure of the pomp of clouds--spread a solemn purple, burning with the light of red jewel and furnace flame at one
10point, on one hill-peak, and extending high and wide, soft and still softer, over half heaven. The east had its own
11charm or fine deep blue, and its own modest gem, a rising and solitary star: soon it would boast the moon; but she was
12yet beneath the horizon. I walked a while on the pavement; but a subtle, well-known scent--that of a cigar--stole from
13some window; I saw the library casement open a handbreadth; I knew I might be watched thence; so I went apart into the
14orchard. No nook in the grounds more sheltered and more Eden-like; it was full of trees, it bloomed with flowers: a very
15high wall shut it out from the court, on one side; on the other, a beech avenue screened it from the lawn. At the bottom
16was a sunk fence; its sole separation from lonely fields: a winding walk, bordered with laurels and terminating in a
17giant horse-chestnut, circled at the base by a seat, led down to the fence. Here one could wander unseen. While such
18honey-dew fell, such silence reigned, such gloaming gathered, I felt as if I could haunt such shade for ever; but in
19threading the flower and fruit parterres at the upper part of the enclosure, enticed there by the light the now rising
20moon cast on this more open quarter, my step is stayed--not by sound, not by sight, but once more by a warning
21fragrance. Sweet-briar and southernwood, jasmine, pink, and rose have long been yielding their evening sacrifice of
22incense: this new scent is neither of shrub nor flower; it is--I know it well--it is Mr. Rochester's cigar. I look round
23and I listen. I see trees laden with ripening fruit. I hear a nightingale warbling in a wood half a mile off; no moving
24form is visible, no coming step audible; but that perfume increases: I must flee. I make for the wicket leading to the
25shrubbery, and I see Mr. Rochester entering. I step aside into the ivy recess; he will not stay long: he will soon
26return whence he came, and if I sit still he will never see me. But no--eventide is as pleasant to him as to me, and
27this antique garden as attractive; and he strolls on, now lifting the gooseberry-tree branches to look at the fruit,
28large as plums, with which they are laden; now taking a ripe cherry from the wall; now stooping towards a knot of
29flowers, either to inhale their fragrance or to admire the dew-beads on their petals. A great moth goes humming by me;
30it alights on a plant at Mr. Rochester's foot: he sees it, and bends to examine it. "Now, he has his back towards me,"
31thought I, "and he is occupied too; perhaps, if I walk softly, I can slip away unnoticed." I trode on an edging of turf
32that the crackle of the pebbly gravel might not betray me: he was standing among the beds at a yard or two distant from
33where I had to pass; the moth apparently engaged him. "I shall get by very well," I meditated. As I crossed his shadow,
34thrown long over the garden by the moon, not yet risen high, he said quietly, without turning-- "Jane, come and look at
35this fellow." I had made no noise: he had not eyes behind--could his shadow feel? I started at first, and then I
36approached him. "Look at his wings," said he, "he reminds me rather of a West Indian insect; one does not often see so
37large and gay a night-rover in England; there! he is flown." The moth roamed away. I was sheepishly retreating also; but
38Mr. Rochester followed me, and when we reached the wicket, he said-- "Turn back: on so lovely a night it is a shame to
39sit in the house; and surely no one can wish to go to bed while sunset is thus at meeting with moonrise." It is one of
40my faults, that though my tongue is sometimes prompt enough at an answer, there are times when it sadly fails me in
41framing an excuse; and always the lapse occurs at some crisis, when a facile word or plausible pretext is specially
42wanted to get me out of painful embarrassment. I did not like to walk at this hour alone with Mr. Rochester in the
43shadowy orchard; but I could not find a reason to allege for leaving him. I followed with lagging step, and thoughts
44busily bent on discovering a means of extrication; but he himself looked so composed and so grave also, I became ashamed
45of feeling any confusion: the evil--if evil existent or prospective there was--seemed to lie with me only; his mind was
46unconscious and quiet. "Jane," he recommenced, as we entered the laurel walk, and slowly strayed down in the direction
47of the sunk fence and the horse-chestnut, "Thornfield is a pleasant place in summer, is it not?" "Yes, sir." "You must
48have become in some degree attached to the house,--you, who have an eye for natural beauties, and a good deal of the
49organ of Adhesiveness?" "I am attached to it, indeed." "And though I don't comprehend how it is, I perceive you have
50acquired a degree of regard for that foolish little child Adèle, too; and even for simple dame Fairfax?" "Yes, sir; in
51different ways, I have an affection for both." "And would be sorry to part with them?" "Yes." "Pity!" he said, and
52sighed and paused. "It is always the way of events in this life," he continued presently: "no sooner have you got
53settled in a pleasant resting-place, than a voice calls out to you to rise and move on, for the hour of repose is
54expired." "Must I move on, sir?" I asked. "Must I leave Thornfield?" "I believe you must, Jane. I am sorry, Janet, but I
55believe indeed you must." This was a blow: but I did not let it prostrate me. "Well, sir, I shall be ready when the
56order to march comes." "It is come now--I must give it to-night." "Then you are going to be married, sir?"
57"Ex-act-ly--pre-cise-ly: with your usual acuteness, you have hit the nail straight on the head." "Soon, sir?" "Very
58soon, my--that is, Miss Eyre: and you'll remember, Jane, the first time I, or Rumour, plainly intimated to you that it
59was my intention to put my old bachelor's neck into the sacred noose, to enter into the holy estate of matrimony--to
60take Miss Ingram to my bosom, in short (she's an extensive armful: but that's not to the point--one can't have too much
61of such a very excellent thing as my beautiful Blanche): well, as I was saying--listen to me, Jane! You're not turning
62your head to look after more moths, are you? That was only a lady-clock, child, 'flying away home.' I wish to remind you
63that it was you who first said to me, with that discretion I respect in you--with that foresight, prudence, and humility
64which befit your responsible and dependent position--that in case I married Miss Ingram, both you and little Adèle had
65better trot forthwith. I pass over the sort of slur conveyed in this suggestion on the character of my beloved; indeed,
66when you are far away, Janet, I'll try to forget it: I shall notice only its wisdom; which is such that I have made it
67my law of action. Adèle must go to school; and you, Miss Eyre, must get a new situation."
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