“Mr. Brocklehurst,” she said. “If you admit her into Lowood school, I want the superintendent and teachers keep a strict eye on her. Deceit is, indeed, a sad fault in a child.” Uttered before a stranger, the accusation cut me to the heart.
“Deceit is, indeed, a sad fault in a child. She will be watched, Mrs. Reed. I will speak to Miss Temple and the teachers,” said Mr. Brocklehurst.
“I wish her to be made useful and humble. She will, with your permission, spend all vacations at Lowood.”
“I approve of your decisions, madam.”
“I will send her, then, as soon as possible, Mr. Brocklehurst.”
“I will send Miss Temple notice about a new girl, so that there will be no difficulty about receiving her. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Brocklehurst.”
Mrs. Reed and I were left alone: some minutes passed in silence; she was sewing, I was watching her with rage in my eyes. Mrs. Reed looked up from her work
“Return to the nursery,” she ordered with irritation. But first I wanted to talk with her.
“I am not deceitful,” I said. “If I were, I would lie and say I love you, and I declare I do not love you. I dislike you, and your son, and the girls. They tell lies, not me.”
“Have you anything more to add?” she asked coldly, as if she were speaking to an adult, not a child[10]. Her tone made me even more furious. Shaking from head to foot, I continued: “I am glad you are no relation of mine. I will never call you aunt again as long as I live. People think you a good woman, but you are bad, hard-hearted. YOU are deceitful!”
“‘Jane, you are under a mistake: what is the matter with you? I assure you, I desire to be your friend.”
“Not you. You told Mr. Brocklehurst I had a bad and deceitful character; and I’ll let everybody at Lowood know what you are, and what you have done. Send me to school soon, Mrs. Reed, for I hate to live here.”
“I will indeed send her to school soon,” murmured Mrs. Reed and left the room. I won.
“All at once I heard a clear voice call, ‘Miss Jane! where are you? Come to lunch!”
It was Bessie, I knew well enough, but I did not move. She came and her presence seemed cheerful. I put my two arms round her.
“You are going to school, I suppose?” she asked.
I nodded.
“And won’t you be sorry to leave poor Bessie?”
“Not at all, Bessie; indeed, I’m rather sorry.”