“Mr。　John？”

“Yes。”

“And　how　does　his　mother　bear　it？”

“Why；　you　see；　Miss　Eyre；　it　is　not　a　mon　mishap：　his　life　has　been　very　wild：　these　last　three　years　he　gave　himself　up　to　strange　ways；　and　his　death　was　shocking。”

“I　heard　from　Bessie　he　was　not　doing　well。”

“Doing　well！　He　could　not　do　worse：　he　ruined　his　health　and　his　estate　amongst　the　worst　men　and　the　worst　women。　He　got　into　debt　and　into　jail：　his　mother　helped　him　out　twice；　but　as　soon　as　he　was　free　he　returned　to　his　old　panions　and　habits。　His　head　was　not　strong：　the　knaves　he　lived　amongst　fooled　him　beyond　anything　I　ever　heard。　He　came　down　to　Gateshead　about　three　weeks　ago　and　wanted　missis　to　give　up　all　to　him。　Missis　refused：　her　means　have　long　been　much　reduced　by　his　extravagance；　so　he　went　back　again；　and　the　next　news　was　that　he　was　dead。　How　he　died；　God　knows！—they　say　he　killed　himself。”

I　was　silent：　the　things　were　frightful。　Robert　Leaven　resumed—

“Missis　had　been　out　of　health　herself　for　some　time：　she　had　got　very　stout；　but　was　not　strong　with　it；　and　the　loss　of　money　and　fear　of　poverty　were　quite　breaking　her　down。　The　information　about　Mr。　John’s　death　and　the　manner　of　it　came　too　suddenly：　it　brought　on　a　stroke。　She　was　three　days　without　speaking；　but　last　Tuesday　she　seemed　rather　better：　she　appeared　as　if　she　wanted　to　say　something；　and　kept　making　signs　to　my　wife　and　mumbling。　It　was　only　yesterday　morning；　howeve