med
to see a rending and upheaving of all nature. . . .

I went back to the inn; and when I had washed and dressed, and tried to
sleep, but in vain, it was five o'clock in the afternoon. I had not
sat five minutes by the {153} coffee-room fire, when the waiter coming
to stir it, as an excuse for talking, told me that two colliers had
gone down, with all hands, a few miles away; and that some other ships
had been seen labouring hard in the Roads, and trying, in great
distress, to keep off shore. Mercy on them, and on all poor sailors,
said he, if we had another night like the last!

(_David Copperfield_.)

CHARLOTTE BRONTE 1816-1855

JANE EYRE AND MR ROCHESTER

"And now, what did you learn at Lowood? Can you play?"

"A little."

"Of course, that is the established answer. Go into the library--I
mean, if you please.--(Excuse my tone of command; I am used to say, 'Do
this,' and it is done. I cannot alter my customary habits for one new
inmate.)--Go, then, into the library; take a candle with you; leave the
door open; sit down to the piano, and play a tune."

I departed, obeying his directions.

"Enough!" he called out in a few minutes. "You play a _little_, I see,
like any other English school-girl; perhaps rather better than some,
but not well."

I closed the piano, and returned. Mr Rochester continued--

{154} "Adele showed me some sketches this morning, which, she said,
were yours. I don't know whether they were entirely of your doing:
probably a master aided you?"

"No, indeed!" I interjected.

"Ah! that pricks pride. Well, fetch me your portfolio, if you can
vouch for its contents being original; but don't pass your word unless
you are certain: I can recognise patchwork."

"Then I will say nothing, and you shall judge for yourself, sir."

I brought the portfolio from the library.

"Approach the table," said he; and I wheeled it to his couch. Adele
and Mrs Fairfax drew near to see the pictures.

"No crowding," said Mr Rochester: "take the drawings from my hand as I
finish with them; but don't push your faces up to mine."

He deliberately scrutinised each sketch and painting. Three he laid
aside; the others, when he had examined them, he swept from him.

"Take them off to the other table, Mrs Fairfax," said he, "and look at
them with Adele;--you" (glancing at me) "resume your seat, and answer
my questions. I perceive these pictures were done by one hand. Was
that hand yours?"