abruptly, when he saw me, pointing to my trunk in the pas- sage. "Yes." He hoisted it on to the vehicle, which was a sort of car, and then I got in: before he shut me up I asked him how far it was to Thornfield. "A matter of six miles." "How long shall we be before we get there?" "Happen an hour and a half." He fastened the car door, climbed to his own seat outside, and we set off. Our progress was leisurely, and gave me ample time to reflect: I was content to be at length so near the end of my journey; and as I leaned back in the comfort- able though not elegant conveyance I meditated much at my ease. "I suppose," thought I, "judging from the plainness of the servant and carriage, Mrs. Fairfax is not a very dashing per- son; so much the better; I never lived amongst fine people but once, and I was very miserable with them. I wonder if she lives alone except this little girl; if so, and if she is in any degree amiable, I shall surely be able to get on with her; I will do my best; it is a pity that doing one's best does not always answer. At Lowood, indeed, I took that resolution, kept it, and succeeded in pleasing; but with Mrs. Reed I re- member my best was always spurned with scorn. I pray God Mrs. Fairfax may not turn out a second Mrs. Ree; but if she does, I am not bound to stay with her; let the worst come to the worst I can advertise again. How far are we on our road now, I wonder?" I let down the window and looked out; Millcote was behind us; judging by the number of its lights, it seemed a place of considerable magnitude, much larger than Lowton. We were now, as far as I could see, on a sort of common; but there were houses scattered all over the district; I felt we were in a different region to Lowood, more populous, less pictur- esque; more stirring, less romantic. The roads were heavy, the night misty; my conductor let his horse walk all the way, and the hour and a half extended, I verily believe, to two hours: at last he turned in his seat and said, -- "You're noan so far fro' Thornfield now." -98- |