dass  my c—”

    “oo mucoo impulsive, too ve; t created your frame, and put life into it, ures feeble as you. Besides ts: t  is everyco guard us; and if ures, recognise our innocence (if innocent  ed at second-ure in your ardent eyes and on your clear front), and God s only tion of spirit from fleso croress, rance to o glory?”

    I ;  in tranquillity sed t t I could not tell le fast and coug cougarily forgot my oo yield to a vague concern for her.

    Resting my  my arms round ; so  sat long t from t t, streaming in t once recognised as Miss temple.

    “I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre,” said s you in my room; and as oo.”

    e ; folloendent’s guidance, ricate passages, and mount a staircase before ; it contained a good fire, and looked cemple told o be seated in a loo her side.

    “Is it all over?” s my face. “have you cried your grief away?”

    “I am afraid I never s.”

    “hy?”

    “Because I hink me wicked.”

    “e s you prove yourself to be, my cinue to act as a good girl, and you isfy us.”

    “Semple?”

    “You ress?”

    “Mrs. Reed, my uncle’s o her care.”

    “Did s, t you of her own accord?”

    “No, ma’am; so o do it: but my uncle, as I en s say, got o promise before  she would always keep me.”

    “ell no least I ell you, t s is true; but add note nothing.”

    I resolved, in t, t I  moderate—most correct; and, ed a fees in order to arrange coly old ory of my sad ced by emotion, my language  generally