But　I　stayed　out　a　few　minutes　longer　with　Adèle　and　Pilot—ran　a　race　with　her；　and　played　a　game　of　battledore　and　shuttlecock。　When　we　went　in；　and　I　had　removed　her　bon　and　coat；　I　took　her　on　my　knee；　kept　her　there　an　hour；　allowing　her　to　prattle　as　she　liked：　not　rebuking　even　some　little　freedoms　and　trivialities　into　which　she　was　apt　to　stray　when　much　noticed；　and　which　betrayed　in　her　a　superficiality　of　character；　inherited　probably　from　her　mother；　hardly　congenial　to　an　English　mind。　Still　she　had　her　merits；　and　I　was　disposed　to　appreciate　all　that　was　good　in　her　to　the　utmost。　I　sought　in　her　countenance　and　features　a　likeness　to　Mr。　Rochester；　but　found　none：　no　trait；　no　turn　of　expression　announced　relationship。　It　was　a　pity：　if　she　could　but　have　been　proved　to　resemble　him；　he　would　have　thought　more　of　her。

It　was　not　till　after　I　had　withdrawn　to　my　own　chamber　for　the　night；　that　I　steadily　reviewed　the　tale　Mr。　Rochester　had　told　me。　As　he　had　said；　there　was　probably　nothing　at　all　extraordinary　in　the　substance　of　the　narrative　itself：　a　wealthy　Englishman’s　passion　for　a　French　dancer；　and　her　treachery　to　him；　were　every…　day　matters　enough；　no　doubt；　in　society；　but　there　was　something　decidedly　strange　in　the　paroxysm　of　emotion　which　had　suddenly　seized　him　when　he　was　in　the　act　of　expressing　the　present　contentment　of　his　mood；　and　his　newly　revived　pleasure　in　the　old　hall　and　its　environs。　I　meditated　wonderingly　on　this　inc