on
for which will keep me, if but in the barest necessaries of life."

"I know not whether I am a true philanthropist; yet I am willing to aid
you to the utmost of my power in a purpose so honest. First, then, tell
me what you have been accustomed to do, and what you _can_ do."

I had now swallowed my tea. I was mightily refreshed by the beverage; as
much so as a giant with wine: it gave new tone to my unstrung nerves, and
enabled me to address this penetrating young judge steadily.

"Mr. Rivers," I said, turning to him, and looking at him, as he looked at
me, openly and without diffidence, "you and your sisters have done me a
great service--the greatest man can do his fellow-being; you have rescued
me, by your noble hospitality, from death. This benefit conferred gives
you an unlimited claim on my gratitude, and a claim, to a certain extent,
on my confidence. I will tell you as much of the history of the wanderer
you have harboured, as I can tell without compromising my own peace of
mind--my own security, moral and physical, and that of others.

"I am an orphan, the daughter of a clergyman. My parents died before I
could know them. I was brought up a dependant; educated in a charitable
institution. I will even tell you the name of the establishment, where I
passed six years as a pupil, and two as a teacher--Lowood Orphan Asylum,
---shire: you will have heard of it, Mr. Rivers?--the Rev. Robert
Brocklehurst is the treasurer."

"I have heard of Mr. Brocklehurst, and I have seen the school."

"I left Lowood nearly a year since to become a private governess. I
obtained a good situation, and was happy. This place I was obliged to
leave four days before I came here. The reason of my departure I cannot
and ought not to explain: it would be useless, dangerous, and would sound
incredible. No blame attached to me: I am as free from culpability as
any one of you three. Miserable I am, and must be for a time; for the
catastrophe which drove me from a house I had found a paradise was of a
strange and direful nature. I observed but two points in planning my
departure--speed, secrecy: to secure these, I had to leave behind me
everything I possessed except a small parcel; which, in my hurry and
trouble of mind, I forgot to take out of the coach that brought me to
Whitcross. To this neighbourhood, then, I came, quite destitute. I
slept two nights in the open air, and wandered about two days without
crossing a thresh