ence；　and；　even　in　a　blind；　imperfect　sense；　put　faith　in　the　confidence。

“I　am　disposed　to　be　gregarious　and　municative　to…night；”　he　repeated；　“and　that　is　why　I　sent　for　you：　the　fire　and　the　chandelier　were　not　sufficient　pany　for　me；　nor　would　Pilot　have　been；　for　none　of　these　can　talk。　Adèle　is　a　degree　better；　but　still　far　below　the　mark；　Mrs。　Fairfax　ditto；　you；　I　am　persuaded；　can　suit　me　if　you　will：　you　puzzled　me　the　first　evening　I　invited　you　down　here。　I　have　almost　forgotten　you　since：　other　ideas　have　driven　yours　from　my　head；　but　to…night　I　am　resolved　to　be　at　ease；　to　dismiss　what　importunes；　and　recall　what　pleases。　It　would　please　me　now　to　draw　you　out—to　learn　more　of　you—therefore　speak。”

Instead　of　speaking；　I　smiled；　and　not　a　very　placent　or　submissive　smile　either。

“Speak；”　he　urged。

“What　about；　sir？”

“Whatever　you　like。　I　leave　both　the　choice　of　subject　and　the　manner　of　treating　it　entirely　to　yourself。”

Accordingly　I　sat　and　said　nothing：　“If　he　expects　me　to　talk　for　the　mere　sake　of　talking　and　showing　off；　he　will　find　he　has　addressed　himself　to　the　wrong　person；”　I　thought。

“You　are　dumb；　Miss　Eyre。”

I　was　dumb　still。　He　bent　his　head　a　little　towards　me；　and　with　a　single　hasty　glance　seemed　to　dive　into　my　eyes。

“Stubborn？”　he　said；　“and　annoyed。　Ah！　it　is　consistent。　I　put　my　request　in　an　absurd；　almost　insolent　form。　Miss　Eyre；　I　beg　your　pardon。　The　fact　is；　once　for