rdon　for　offences　by　me　unmitted。　I　looked　into　a　certain　corner　near；　half…expecting　to　see　the　slim　outline　of　a　once　dreaded　switch　which　used　to　lurk　there；　waiting　to　leap　out　imp…like　and　lace　my　quivering　palm　or　shrinking　neck。　I　approached　the　bed；　I　opened　the　curtains　and　leant　over　the　high…piled　pillows。

Well　did　I　remember　Mrs。　Reed’s　face；　and　I　eagerly　sought　the　familiar　image。　It　is　a　happy　thing　that　time　quells　the　longings　of　vengeance　and　hushes　the　promptings　of　rage　and　aversion。　I　had　left　this　woman　in　bitterness　and　hate；　and　I　came　back　to　her　now　with　no　other　emotion　than　a　sort　of　ruth　for　her　great　sufferings；　and　a　strong　yearning　to　forget　and　forgive　all　injuries—to　be　reconciled　and　clasp　hands　in　amity。

The　well…known　face　was　there：　stern；　relentless　as　ever—there　was　that　peculiar　eye　which　nothing　could　melt；　and　the　somewhat　raised；　imperious；　despotic　eyebrow。　How　often　had　it　lowered　on　me　menace　and　hate！　and　how　the　recollection　of　childhood’s　terrors　and　sorrows　revived　as　I　traced　its　harsh　line　now！　And　yet　I　stooped　down　and　kissed　her：　she　looked　at　me。

“Is　this　Jane　Eyre？”　she　said。

“Yes；　Aunt　Reed。　How　are　you；　dear　aunt？”

I　had　once　vowed　that　I　would　never　call　her　aunt　again：　I　thought　it　no　sin　to　forget　and　break　that　vow　now。　My　fingers　had　fastened　on　her　hand　which　lay　outside　the　sheet：　had　she　pressed　mine　kindly；　I　should　at　that　moment　have　experienced　true　pleasure。　But　uni