by a
rising wind, had left the moon bare; and her light, streaming in through
a window near, shone full both on us and on the approaching figure, which
we at once recognised as Miss Temple.

"I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre," said she; "I want you in my
room; and as Helen Burns is with you, she may come too."

We went; following the superintendent's guidance, we had to thread some
intricate passages, and mount a staircase before we reached her
apartment; it contained a good fire, and looked cheerful. Miss Temple
told Helen Burns to be seated in a low arm-chair on one side of the
hearth, and herself taking another, she called me to her side.

"Is it all over?" she asked, looking down at my face. "Have you cried
your grief away?"

"I am afraid I never shall do that."

"Why?"

"Because I have been wrongly accused; and you, ma'am, and everybody else,
will now think me wicked."

"We shall think you what you prove yourself to be, my child. Continue to
act as a good girl, and you will satisfy us."

"Shall I, Miss Temple?"

"You will," said she, passing her arm round me. "And now tell me who is
the lady whom Mr. Brocklehurst called your benefactress?"

"Mrs. Reed, my uncle's wife. My uncle is dead, and he left me to her
care."

"Did she not, then, adopt you of her own accord?"

"No, ma'am; she was sorry to have to do it: but my uncle, as I have often
heard the servants say, got her to promise before he died that she would
always keep me."

"Well now, Jane, you know, or at least I will tell you, that when a
criminal is accused, he is always allowed to speak in his own defence.
You have been charged with falsehood; defend yourself to me as well as
you can. Say whatever your memory suggests is true; but add nothing and
exaggerate nothing."

I resolved, in the depth of my heart, that I would be most moderate--most
correct; and, having reflected a few minutes in order to arrange
coherently what I had to say, I told her all the story of my sad
childhood. Exhausted by emotion, my language was more subdued than it
generally was when it developed that sad theme; and mindful of Helen's
warnings against the indulgence of resentment, I infused into the
narrative far less of gall and wormwood than ordinary. Thus restrained
and simplified, it sounded more credible: I felt as I went on that Miss
Temple fully believed me.

In the course of the tale I had mentioned Mr. Lloyd as having come to see
me after t