PART THREE---- A YOUNG WOMAN AT THORNFIELD
CHAPTER SEVEN Mr. Rochester
The house where I was to work was called Thornfield. It was a large house in the country. After a day’s journey, I arrived at the house. Mrs. Fairfax, who came out to meet me, was a little old lady. She seemed happy to have someone to talk to. The house was dark and cold, with large rooms full of beautiful, expensive furniture. It was not a very comforting house. But I was excited to live there, working for kind Mrs. Fairfax.
However, I soon discovered Mrs. Fairfax was not the house’s owner, as I had thought. She was only a servant. Thornfield belonged to a man named Mr. Rochester, who was not at home when I arrived. My pupil was a girl named Adele, who was seven or eight years old. Mr. Rovhester had taken Adele to live with him, after her mother had died. She was French, and could not speak English. But I had learned French at Lowood, so I could speak to Adele. She was a pretty, happy child who liked to play with dolls and toys. I taught her English and other subjects for two hours every day in library. It was difficult to make her study, because she had never had school lessons before.
A little time passed, and Mr. Rochester still had not come home. One day I decided to ask Mrs. Fairfax some questions about him. I was very curious to know what kind of man he was, and Mrs. Fairfax was happy to talk..
“Do people like him?” was my first question.
“Oh yes. He comes from a rich family that is very respected. They have lived here for many years.” She said.
“But do you like him? What kind of person is he?”
“Well, I have always liked him. He is a fair and good man to his servants. He’s a little strange, though. He has traveled to many countries, and knows a lot of things. I think he is a very strange man,” she said.
“What do you mean, strange?” I asked, interested.
“It’s not easy to describe. I never know when he is serious, or joking with me. He is very mysterious, and his life has been full of adventure and trouble. Although I know him well, I understand him only a little. But he is a good man, and a good master.”
Mrs. Fairfax would not tell me anything more about Mr. Rochester. Instead, she asked me if I wanted to see the house. We went through many large and beautiful rooms, filled with old paintings and furniture. When we reached the top floor, I saw a small passage with some small black doors on its walls. They were all locked. I wondered what was behind the doors; they seemed to be hiding something. As we turned to walk down the stairs, I heard a strange, frightening laugh coming from behind the wall. “Mrs. Fairfax, did you hear that laugh? Who is it?” I said.
“It is probably a servant named Grace Poole,” she said. “She always works in one of those rooms.” I heard the laugh again. It did not sound like the laugh of a normal woman—it did not even sound human!
“Grace!” called Mrs. Fairfax. One of the little black doors opened and a woman appeared. She looked too ordinary to be a ghost.
“Grace, there is too much noise,” said Mrs. Fairfax. “ Remember what you have been told!” Grace said nothing; she only nodded her head and went back into the room.
In the next few months, I sometimes went up to the top floor, where I could look out of the high windows and be alone with my thoughts. I was happy with my work, but I felt that something was missing from my life. I wanted interesting things to happen, I wanted more adventure! People are not always happy with a quiet life, and women need adventure, even if men do not believe it!
One day in January I had a free afternoon, and I decided to take a fast walk. I wanted to get some exercise and see more of the area. It was a sunny winter day, and I was enjoying the sun go down in the trees behind the house. Suddenly I heard a house coming. As I watched, it slipped and fell on the icy ground, and the ride fell off. I ran to try and help the man, who was talking to himself angrily as he tried to stand up.
“Are you hurt, sir? Can I help you?” I asked.
“No,” he said. Clearly his leg hurt him, and he sat down quickly.
“If you need help, sir. I can get someone from Thornfield Hall,” I said.
“Thank you, but I don’t need anyone. I haven’t broken any bones,” he replied. He was tall and strong looking. He had a dark face and dark eyes, and was about thirty-five. Although he was strange and angrylooking, somehow I wanted to help him.
“Sir, I won’t leave you alone on this road, until I see that you can get on your horse again,” I said.
When I said this the man looked at me for the first time. He studied my face for a moment.
“I think you should be at home yourself!” he said. ”Do you live near here?”
“Yes, sir. I live that house over there,” I said.
“You live at Thornfield Hall?” he asked, surprised. He pointed to the house. It was now evening, and all the lights in the windows were on.
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
“Let’s see… you aren’t a servant at Thornfield. I can tell because of your black dress. You must be…” He stopped speaking, but seemed to want to know who I was, so I told him.
“I am the governess.”
“Ah, the governess! Of course! I had forgotten!” he tried to stand up but his leg was still hurting him badly. “Well, I don’t want you to find help, but you could help me yourself, if you like.”
“Of course, sir,” I said. And so he leaned his weight on my shoulder and I helped him walk to his horse. In a moment he had jumped on to the horse’s back..
“Thank you. You should go home now, it’s getting dark!” he said, as he rode away.
I walked back to the house, happy with the interesting meeting. In my mind I saw the man’s dark, strong face. Even when I arrived back at Thornfield, I did not go into the house immediately. I knew I would only spend the evening quietly with old Mrs. Fairfax. Instead I stayed outside, staring up at the moon and the stars, thinking about a different, more exciting life.
When I went inside, the servants told me that Mr. Rochester had arrived, but that he had hurt his leg when his horse slipped on the ice! |