"A present? Who wants a present?" he said angrily. "Did you expect a present, Miss Eyer? Do you like presents?"

Thornfield Hall became quite busy the next day, now that the master had returned. People kept coming to visit him on business. I enjoyed the new, cheerful atmosphere. But I could not make Adele concentrate on her lessons because she was constantly talking about the presents Mr Rochester had promised to bring her. That evening we were invited to have tea with him. I immediately recognized the traveller I had helped, with his dark hair and skin, his square forehead and his stern look. His leg was supported on a chair, but he made no effort to greet me when I entered. In fact, he neither spoke nor moved.

"Have you brought a present for Miss Eyre with you as well?" Adele asked him.

"Don't be so modest! I've been talking to Adele. She's not very clever, but you've taught her well."

"I haven't much experience of them, sir," I answered. "Anyway, I have no right to expect a present, as I haven't done anything to deserve one."

"Ah, yes, a charity school! Eight years! I'm surprised you lasted so long in such a place. There is something like magic in your face. When I met you on the road to Hay last night, I almost thought you had put a spell on my horse! I still wonder if you did. What about your parents?"

"I was at Lowood school, sir, for eight years."

"Where were you before you came here?" he asked.

"And your relations?"

"Sir, that is my present. That's what a teacher wants most, praise of her pupil's progress."

"They're dead. I don't remember them."

Mr Rochester drank his tea in silence After tea, he called me closer to the fire, while Adèle played with Mrs Fairfax.

"Yes," said the old housekeeper, "and I thank God she did. She's a good teacher for Adèle, and a kind friend to me."

"I have none."

"I advertised, and Mrs Fairfax answered the advertise-ment."

"Don't try to give her a good character, Mrs Fairfax," said Mr Rochester sternly. "She and her magic made my horse slip on the ice last night."

"Who recommended you to come here?"

Mrs Fairfax looked puzzled and clearly did not understand.

"About ten."

"of course, that's what all young women say. Go and play a tune on the piano in the library. " I did as he asked.

"Miss Eyre," continued Mr Rochester, "how old were you when you started at Lowood?"

"A little."

"That's enough!" he called after a few minutes. "Yes, you do indeed play a ittle, just like any schoolgirl, better than some perhaps. Now, bring me your sketches." I fetched them from my room Having looked carefully at them, he chose three.

"And you stayed there eight years, so you are now eighteen?" I nodded. "I would never have been able to guess your age," he went on. "Now, what did you learn there? Can you play the piano?"

"These are interesting," he said. "You have only expressed the shadow of your ideas, because you aren't good enough at drawing or painting, but the ideas, where did they come from? Who taught you to draw wind, and space, and feeling? But put them away now, Miss Eyre. Do you realize it's nine o'clock? Adèle should be in bed by now. Good night to you all." Mr Rochester's mood had suddenly changed, and he clearly wished to be alone.

"Not now, that's true, but he did have an older brother, who died nine years ago."

"He may seem like that to a stranger. I'm so used to him that I never notice it. And he has had family troubles, you know."

Later tha evening I talked to Mrs Fairfax. "You said Mr Rochester was a little peculiar," I said. "Well, what do you think, Miss Eyre?"

"Perhaps he thinks it's a sad place. I really don't know." It was clear that Mrs Fairfax would not tell me any more.

"I think he is very peculiar, and quite rude."

"But he has no family," I answered.

"Nine years is a long time. Surely he has recovered from losing his brother by now."

"Why should he stay away?" I asked, surprised.

"Well, there was a lot of bad feeling in the family. The father was very fond of money, and wanted to keep the family property together, so the elder brother inherited most of it. I don't know what happened, but I do know Mr Edward (that's the master) quarrelled with his family. That's why he's travelled so much. When his brother died, he inherited Thornfield, but I'm not surprised he doesn't come here often."

One evening, a few days later, I was invited to talk to Mr Rochester after dinner. At the far end of the room Adèle was delightedly telling Mrs Fairfax about the presents she had received. Mr Rochester called me closer to the fire.

"I don't like the conversation of children or old ladies," he murmured to me. "But they are entertaining each other at the moment, so I can amuse myself." Tonight he did not look so stern, and there was a softness in his fine, dark eyes. As I was looking at him, he suddenly turned and caught my look.

"Do you think I'm handsome, Miss Eyre?" he asked.

Normally I would have taken time to think, and said something polite, but somehow I answered at once, "No, sir."

"No, you shouldn't! I see, you criticize my appearance, and then you stab me in the back! All right, tell me. What is wrong with my appearance?"

"Sir, I'm sorry. I should have said that beauty doesn't matter, or something like that."

"Ah, you really are unusual! You are a quiet, serious little person, but you can be almost rude."

"Mr Rochester, I didn't intend to criticize you."

"Stabbing me again! Just because I said I didn't like talking to old ladies and children! Well, young lady, I wanted to be good when I was younger, but life has been a struggle for me, and I've become as hard and tough as a rubber ball. I only have a little goodness left inside." He was speaking rather excitedly, and I thought perhaps he had been drinking. "Miss Eyre, you look puzzled. Tonight I want conversation. It's your turn. Speak."

"I do, sir. Is it rude to ask if you are also good?"

I said nothing, but smiled coldly.

"I'm sorry if I'm rude, Miss Eyre. But I'm twenty years older, and more experienced, than you. Don't you think I have the right to command you?"

"Well, now you can Look at my head. Do you think I am intelligent?" He pointed to his huge, square forehead.

"No, sir, not just because you're older and more experienced than me. You would have the right only if you'd made good use of your experience of life."

"I don't accept that, as I've made very bad use of my experience! But will you agree to obey my orders anyway?"

"Of course! I'd forgotten that I pay you a salary! So will you agree because of the salary?"

"No, sir, not because of that, but because you forgot about it, and because you care whether a servant of yours is comfortable or not, I gladly agree."

I thought, "He is peculiar, he's forgotten that he's paying me ￡ 30 a year to obey his orders," and I said, "Not many masters bother to ask if their servants are offended by their orders."

"And perhaps you have too," I thought.

"You have honesty and feeling. There are not many girls like you. But perhaps I go too fast. Perhaps you have awful faults to counterbalance your few good points."

He seemed to read my mind, and said quickly, "Yes, you're right. I have plenty of faults. I went the wrong way when I was twenty-one, and have never found the right path again. I might have been very different. I might have been as good as you, and perhaps wiser. I am not a bad man, take my word for it, but I have done wrong. It wasn't my character, but circumstances which were to blame. Why do I tell you all this? Because you're the sort of person people tell their problems and secrets to, because you're sympathetic and give them hope."

"Pleasure may taste bitter, sir."

"Do you think so, sir?"

"How do you know, a pure young thing like you? You have no experience of life and its problems. But I will try to lead a better life."

"No, it won't. What I really should do is change my character, and I still could but -- it's difficult. And if I can't have happiness, I want pleasure, even if it's wrong."

"I do. You see, when life was difficult, I became desperate, and now all I have is regret."

"Asking forgiveness might cure it, sir."

"I must put Adèle to bed now," I said.

I stood up. The conversation was becoming hard to follow.

"Don't be afraid of me, Miss Eyre. You don't relax or laugh very much, perhaps because of the effect Lowood school has had on you. But in time you will be more natural with me, and laugh, and speak freely. You're like a restless bird in a cage. When you get out of the cage, you'll fly very high. Good night."