Clouds there are none; and clear stars beam mild;
God; in His mercy; protection is showing;
fort and hope to the poor orphan child。
Ev’n should I fall o’er the broken bridge passing;
Or stray in the marshes; by false lights beguiled;
Still will my Father; with promise and blessing;
Take to His bosom the poor orphan child。
There is a thought that for strength should avail me;
Though both of shelter and kindred despoiled;
Heaven is a home; and a rest will not fail me;
God is a friend to the poor orphan child。”
“e; Miss Jane; don’t cry;” said Bessie as she finished。 She might as well have said to the fire; “don’t burn!” but how could she divine the morbid suffering to which I was a prey? In the course of the morning Mr。 Lloyd came again。
“What; already up!” said he; as he entered the nursery。 “Well; nurse; how is she?”
Bessie answered that I was doing very well。
“Then she ought to look more cheerful。 e here; Miss Jane: your name is Jane; is it not?”
“Yes; sir; Jane Eyre。”
“Well; you have been crying; Miss Jane Eyre; can you tell me what about? Have you any pain?”
“No; sir。”
“Oh! I daresay she is crying because she could not go out with Missis in the carriage;” interposed Bessie。
“Surely not! why; she is too old for such pettishness。”
I thought so too; and my self…esteem being wounded by the false charge; I answered promptly; “I never cried for such a thing in my life: I hate going out in the carriage。 I cry because I am miserable。”
“Oh fie; Miss!” said Bessie。
The good apothecary appeared a little puzzled。 I was standing before him; he fixed his eyes on me very steadily: his eyes were small and grey; not very bright; but I dare say I should think them shrewd now: he had a hard…featured yet good…natured looking face。 Having considered me at leisure; he said—
“What made you ill yesterday?”
“She had a fall;” said Bessie; again putting in her word。
“Fall! why; that is like a baby again! Can’t she manage to walk at her age? She must be eight or nine years old。”
“I was knocked down;” was the blunt explanation; jerked out of me by another pang of mortified pride; “but that did not make me ill;” I added; while Mr。 Lloyd helped himself to a pinch of snuff。
As he was returning the box to his waistcoat pocket; a loud bell rang for the servants’ dinner; he knew what it was。 “That’s for you; nurse;” said he; “you can go down; I’ll give Miss Jane a lecture till you e back。”
Bessie would rather have stayed; but she was obliged to go; because punctuality at meals was rigidly enforced at Gateshead Hall。
“The fall did not make you ill; what did; then?” pursued Mr。 Lloyd when Bessie was gone。
“I was shut up in a room where there is a ghost till after dark。”
I saw Mr。 Lloyd smile and frown at the same time。
“Ghost! What; you are a baby after all! You are afraid of ghosts?”
“Of Mr。 Reed’s ghost I am: he died in that room; and was laid out there。 Neither Bessie nor any one else will go into it at night; if they can help it; and it was cr