tterance told lessly, sing on a corner of t, fixed it doated.

    “Sit up!” said s annoy me . Are you Jane Eyre?”

    “I am Jane Eyre.”

    “I rouble  co be left on my ion, and arts of temper, and inual, unnatural cs! I declare salked to me once like someto get  did t Lo t die: but I said she did—I wish she had died!”

    “A strange wise her so?”

    “I o er, and a great favourite  like a simpleton. reated o put it out to nurse and pay for its maintenance. I ed it t time I set my eyes on it—a sickly, s cradle all nig screaming ily like any ot ; and o nurse it and notice it as if it iced  t age. ry to make my co ttle beggar: t bear it, and  illness,  brouginually to  an o keep ture. I  of a  all resemble : Joe a Gibson. Oormenting me ters for money? I o give ting poor. I must send a of t it off. I can never submit to do t—yet o get on? terest of mortgages. Jo by sful—I feel ashamed for him when I see him.”

    Sting muced. “I tter leave o Bessie, he bed.

    “Per sen talks in towards nighe morning she is calmer.”

    I rose. “Stop!” exclaimed Mrs. Reed, “to say. ens me—inually tens me imes t I see   o a strange pass: I roubles.  is to be done? o be had?”

    Bessie noo persuade o take a sedative draugy. Soon after, Mrs. Reed greo a dozing state. I t her.

    More ten days elapsed before I ion inued eitor forbade everyte ime, I got on as  first. Eliza  ing, and scarcely utter a o me or er. Georgiana er nonsense to ake no notice of me. But I ermined