of　myself。　I　know　another　way　to　the　house。　It　does　not　signify　if　I　knew　twenty　ways；　for　he　has　seen　me。

“Hillo！”　he　cries；　and　he　puts　up　his　book　and　his　pencil。　“There　you　are！　e　on；　if　you　please。”

I　suppose　I　do　e　on；　though　in　what　fashion　I　know　not；　being　scarcely　cognisant　of　my　movements；　and　solicitous　only　to　appear　calm；　and；　above　all；　to　control　the　working　muscles　of　my　face—　which　I　feel　rebel　insolently　against　my　will；　and　struggle　to　express　what　I　had　resolved　to　conceal。　But　I　have　a　veil—it　is　down：　I　may　make　shift　yet　to　behave　with　decent　posure。

“And　this　is　Jane　Eyre？　Are　you　ing　from　Millcote；　and　on　foot？　Yes—just　one　of　your　tricks：　not　to　send　for　a　carriage；　and　e　clattering　over　street　and　road　like　a　mon　mortal；　but　to　steal　into　the　vicinage　of　your　home　along　with　twilight；　just　as　if　you　were　a　dream　or　a　shade。　What　the　deuce　have　you　done　with　yourself　this　last　month？”

“I　have　been　with　my　aunt；　sir；　who　is　dead。”

“A　true　Janian　reply！　Good　angels　be　my　guard！　She　es　from　the　other　world—from　the　abode　of　people　who　are　dead；　and　tells　me　so　when　she　meets　me　alone　here　in　the　gloaming！　If　I　dared；　I’d　touch　you；　to　see　if　you　are　substance　or　shadow；　you　elf！—but　I’d　as　soon　offer　to　take　hold　of　a　blue　ignis　fatuus　light　in　a　marsh。　Truant！　truant！”　he　added；　when　he　had　paused　an　instant。　“Absent　from　me　a　whole　month；　and　forgetting　me　quite；　I’ll　be　sworn！”

I　knew　there　would　be　plea