Five o’clock ruck on t a candle into my closet and found me already up and nearly dressed. I rance, and  on my clot of a  setting, o leave Gates day by a coaces at six a.m. Bessie  risen; s a fire in to make my breakfast. Fes of a journey; nor could I. Bessie, o take a fes in a paper and put to my bag; t, and he nursery. As we passed Mrs. Reed’s bedroom, she said, “ill you go in and bid Missis good-bye?”

    “No, Bessie: so my crib last nigo supper, and said I need not disturb old me to remember t s friend, and to speak of eful to her accordingly.”

    “ did you say, Miss?”

    “Noturned from o the wall.”

    “t was wrong, Miss Jane.”

    “It e rig been my friend: she has been my foe.”

    “O Miss Jane! don’t say so!”

    “Good-bye to Gates out at t door.

    t, and it ern,  steps and gravel road sodden by a recent ter morning: my teettered as I ened do in ter’s lodge: er’s  kindling runk,  t ed but a fees of six, and sly after t ruck, tant roll of o tcs lamps approache gloom.

    “Is ser’s wife.

    “Yes.”

    “And ?”

    “Fifty miles.”

    “ a long  afraid to trust her so far alone.”

    t  tes s four s top laden e; my trunk aken from Bessie’s neck, to wh kisses.

    “Be sure and take good care of o ted me into the inside.

    “Ay, ay!” o, a voice exclaimed “All rigeso unknoe and mysterious regions.

    I remember but little of t to me of a preternatural lengt o travel over oopped; taken out, and ted to dine. I o an inn, o , as I ite,  me in an immense room  eac from ttle red gallery  truments.  for a long time, feeling very strange, and mortally appres ly figured in Bessie’s fireside c last turned; once more I oector mounted , sounded tled over tony street” of L-.

    ternoon came on  and somey: as it o dusk, I began to feel t ting very far indeed from Gateso pass tory c grey rees.

    Lulled by t last dropped asleep; I  long slumbered ion a anding at it: I sahe lamps.

    “Is ttle girl called Jane Eyre ed out; my trunk ly drove away.

    I iff ting, and beion of ties, I looked about me. Rain, ; t and locked it bes burning in some;  up a broad pebbly pat, and ted at a door; t led me to a room  me alone.

    I stood and  tain ligervals, papered , curtains, sure: it  so spacious or splendid as t Gates comfortable enougo make out t of a picture on t entered; another followed close behind.

    t all lady ly enveloped in a senance was grave, .

    “to be sent alone,” said sting able. Stentively for a minute or ther added—

    “Ster be put to bed soon; sired: are you tired?” she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder.

    “A little, ma’am.”

    “And oo, no doubt: let o bed, Miss Miller. Is t time you  your parents to come to sctle girl?”

    I explained to  I s. S tle: toucly h Miss Miller.

    t mig ty-nine; t  impressed me by enance;  and action, like one y of tasks on  I after to compartment, from passage to passage, of a large and irregular building; till, emerging from total and some portion of traversed, ly entered a  deal tables, t eac a pair of candles, and seated all round on bencion of girls of every age, from nine or ten to ty. Seen by t of to me appeared countless, t in reality exceeding eiguff frocks of quaint fas udy; to- morroask, and t of titions.

    Miss Miller signed to me to sit on a benco top of t—

    “Monitors, collect t tall girls arose from different tables, and going round, gathe word of command—

    “Monitors, fetcrays!”

    tall girls  out and returned presently, eacray, ions of somet cer and mug in tray. tions o all.  came to my turn, I drank, for I y, but did not toucement and fatigue rendering me incapable of eating: I no en cake so fragments.

    tairs. Overpoime iced  of a place t t, like t o-nigo be Miss Miller’s bed-fellos; in ten minutes t inguis silence and complete darkness I fell asleep.

    t passed rapidly. I oo tired even to dream; I only once ao s, and torrents, and to be sensible t Miss Miller aken  yet begun to daoo rose reluctantly; it ter cold, and I dressed as y,  one basin to six girls, on tands do order descended tairs and entered t scerwards s—

    “Form classes!”

    A great tumult succeeded for some minutes, during  tables; all  book, like a Bible, lay on eacable, before t seat. A pause of some seconds succeeded, filled up by to class, e sound.

    A distant bell tinkled: immediately tered to a table and took . Miss Miller assumed t c nearest t of to t ttom of it.

    Business no ed, tain texts of Scripture o tracted reading of cers in ted an ime t exercise erminated, day igable bell noime: to anoto breakfast: o be of getting someto eat! I ion, aken so little the day before.

    tory , loables smoked basins of somet,  forting. I saation of discontent  trils of tined to s; from tall girls of t class, rose the whispered words—

    “Disgusting! t again!”

    “Silence!” ejaculated a voice; not t of Miss Miller, but one of teactle and dark personage, smartly dressed, but of some, op of one table,  seen t before; s visible: Miss Miller occupied t of table range, foreign-looking, elderly lady, teacerook t at t brougea for teache meal began.

    Ravenous, and no, I devoured a spoonful or tion  ts taste; but t edge of ed, I perceived I  in  porridge is almost as bad as rotten potatoes; famine itself soon sickens over it. taste ry to s; but in most cases t urned for , and a second ed, tory ed for t to go out, and in passing tables, I saeacake a basin of taste it; s tenances expressed displeasure, and one of tout one, whispered—

    “Abominable stuff! how shameful!”

    A quarter of an umult; for t space of time it seemed to be permitted to talk loud and more freely, and tion ran on t, ion teac girls standing about ures. I  pronounced by some lips; at  to cless s.

    A clock in truck nine; Miss Miller left anding in the room, cried—

    “Silence! to your seats!”

    Discipline prevailed: in five minutes to order, and comparative silence quelled tongues. teacually resumed ts: but still, all seemed to . Ranged on bency girls sat motionless and erect; a quaint assemblage t a curl visible; in bro t, tle pockets of ied in front of tined to serve too, ockings and country-made sened y of tume  suited ty even to ttiest.

    I ill looking at t intervals examining teacout one tle coarse, t a little fierce, tesque, and Miss Miller, poor ten, and over-aneously, as if moved by a common spring.

    ter? I s, ted: but as all eyes urned to one point, mine folloion, and encountered t nigood at ttom of t eacly and gravely. Miss Miller approaco ask ion, and  back to her place, and said aloud—

    “Monitor of t class, fetche globes!”

    ion ed, ted moved sloion, for I retain yet traced eps. Seen noo times, ; a gold cc so common t  to complete ture, refined features; a complexion, if pale, clear; and a stately air and carriage, and  least, as clearly as , a correct idea of terior of Miss temple—Maria temple, as I afterten in a prayer-book intrusted to me to carry to church.

    tendent of Loables, summoned t class round eacitions in ory, grammar, amp;c.,  on for an ing and aritic succeeded, and music lessons emple to some of tion of eac last struck tendent rose—

    “I o address to the pupils,” said she.

    tumult of cessation from lessons  it sank at  on—

    “You  ; you must be  a lunco all.”

    teac  of surprise.

    “It is to be done on my responsibility,” sory tone to tely after the room.

    tly brougributed, to t and refres of to t on a coarse stra, rings of coloured calico, and a cloak of grey frieze. I ream, I made my o the open air.

    to exclude every glimpse of prospect; a covered verandao scores of little beds: to cultivate, and eacless look pretty; but no tter end of January, all ry bligood and looked round me: it  day for outdoor exercise; not positively rainy, but darkened by a drizzling yello ill soaking  erday. tronger among t and engaged in active games, but sundry pale and togeter and  t penetrated to tly the sound of a hollow cough.

    As yet I o no one, nor did anybody seem to take notice of me; I stood lonely enoug to t feeling of isolation I omed; it did not oppress me muc against a pillar of tle close about me, and, trying to forget t, and tisfied o t of cions oo undefined and fragmentary to merit record: I  kneed ao an immeasurable distance; t range, and of ture I could form no conjecture. I looked round t-like garden, and t te ne, containing tory,  by mullioned and latticed one tablet over tion:—

    “Loitution.—tion  A.D.—, by Naomi Brockle, of Brockle y.” “Let your lig t. Matt. v. 16.

    I read t t an explanation belonged to to penetrate t. I ill pondering tion of “Institution,” and endeavouring to make out a connection bet ure, ing on a stone benc over a book, on tent: from itle—it  struck me as strange, and consequently attractive. In turning a leaf so look up, and I said to ly—

    “Is your book interesting?” I ention of asking o lend it to me some day.

    “I like it,” ser a pause of a second or two, during which she examined me.

    “ is it about?” I continued. I o open a conversation ranger; tep rary to my nature and s: but I tion toucoo liked reading, t digest or compreantial.

    “You may look at it,” replied the book.

    I did so; a brief examination convinced me t tents aking title: Rasselas looked dull to my trifling taste; I sa fairies, not genii; no brigy seemed spread over ted pages. I returned it to  quietly, and  saying anyt to relapse into udious mood: again I ventured to disturb her—

    “Can you tell me ing on t stone over t is Loitution?”

    “to live.”

    “And itution? Is it in any  from other schools?”

    “It is partly a cy-sc of us, are cy-c either dead?”

    “Both died before I can remember.”

    “ell, all t eits, and titution for educating orphans.”

    “Do hing?”

    “e pay, or our friends pay, fifteen pounds a year for each.”

    “ty-children?”

    “Because fifteen pounds is not enougeacion.”

    “ho subscribes?”

    “Different benevolent-minded ladies and gentlemen in this neighbourhood and in London.”

    “?”

    “t t of t tablet records, and hing here.”

    “hy?”

    “Because reasurer and manager of tablis.”

    “t belong to t tall lady wco have some bread and cheese?”

    “to Miss temple? O did: so anso Mr. Brockle for all s buys all our food and all our clothes.”

    “Does he live here?”

    “No—t a large hall.”

    “Is he a good man?”

    “o do a great deal of good.”

    “Did you say t tall lady emple?”

    “Yes.”

    “And eachers called?”

    “ttends to ts out—for tle one ceacory and grammar, and itions; and t- ied to : seaches French.”

    “Do you like teachers?”

    “ell enough.”

    “Do you like ttle black one, and t pronounce her name as you do.”

    “Miss Scatcy—you must take care not to offend  is not a bad sort of person.”

    “But Miss temple is t—isn’t she?”

    “Miss temple is very good and very clever; s, because shey do.”

    “have you been long here?”

    “two years.”

    “Are you an orphan?”

    “My mother is dead.”

    “Are you happy here?”

    “You ask ratoo many questions. I : no to read.”

    But at t moment tered tory ising t  breakfast: ted vessels, eam redolent of rancid fat. I found to consist of indifferent potatoes and strange sy meat, mixed and cooked togetion a tolerably abundant plateful ioned to eace his.

    After dinner, ely adjourned to tinued till five o’clock.

    t of ternoon  I sacory class, and sent to stand in t seemed to me in a  a girl—seen or uped s distress and s to my surprise s nor blusood, tral mark of all eyes. “ so quietly—so firmly?” I asked of myself. “ere I in  seems to me I so open and sion: of somet round  I am sure t see it—  seems turned in, gone doo : s  . I  of a girl sy.”

    Soon after five p.m. udy; ter and t-cake, prayers, and bed. Suc day at Lowood.