Ten days passed, and there was no news of Mr. Rochester. Mrs. Fairfax said she wouldn't be surprised if he went abroad for a year. He'd often left Thornfield in the past in an abrupt manner.
When I heard this, I actually allowed myself to feel disappointed. But then I remembered that I had nothing to do with the master of Thornfield except to receive his salary for teaching Adele. I should not waste my love on someone who was above me.
Mr. Rochester had been absent for more than two weeks when Mrs. Fairfax received a letter.
"Now I suppose we'll know whether we're to expect his return or not," she said as she opened his letter at breakfast.
My hand shook, and I spilled half my coffee as she read the letter. I tied Adele's pinafore, which happened to be loose, and then helped her to another bun and refilled her milk before I trusted myself to speak.
"Mr. Rochester isn't likely to return soon?" I asked in a nonchalant voice.
"Indeed he's returning in three days and he's bringing some houseguests. He has given me instructions to hire some help from Millcote to prepare the house."
The next few days were busy. Mrs. Fairfax needed me in the kitchen, so I spent all my time helping—or hindering—the cook as she made pastries and prepared game. Since I was busy, Adele was excused from school and she ran wild with excitement.
During these days the one blot on my happiness was Grace Poole. The dinner hour was the only time she spent with her fellow servants. But none of them seemed to think this was strange. One day I overheard one of the new servants from Millcote talking to Leah about Grace, but as soon as Leah spotted me, they stopped.
"Doesn't she know?" whispered the woman.
Leah shook her head, and I was reminded that there was a mystery at Thornfield and that I was excluded from it.
At last that evening we heard the clatter of hoofbeats that signaled the arrival of Mr. Rochester and his party. Looking out a window, I saw Mr. Rochester and a dark-haired woman, who had to be Blanche Ingram, galloping on horseback ahead of two carriages full of ladies and gentlemen.
After the ladies had changed, Adele longed to go downstairs and see their beautiful dresses, but we had our supper upstairs in the schoolroom. I told her stories for as long as she would listen. Then we sat on the stairs as the sound of a piano floated up from the sitting room. A woman sang, and then we heard a duet. I listened for Mr. Rochester's voice.
The next day Mrs. Fairfax said she'd mentioned to Mr. Rochester that Adele wanted to be introduced to the ladies. He'd said that Adele and I should come to the sitting room after dinner. And so, wearing my best gray dress, the one I'd worn only to Miss Temple's wedding, I settled myself unobtrusively on a window seat.
Suddenly six ladies entered the room. Mrs. Eshton had two pretty daughters, Amy and Louisa, but they could not compete with Lady Ingram and her tall, beautiful daughters, Mary and Blanche. No longer able to contain her excitement, Adele ran over and greeted them in French.
Blanche looked down at her with disdain, but the Eshton girls exclaimed with delight over Adele. They led her to a sofa, where she chattered away in French and English.
At last coffee was served, and the gentlemen entered the room: Mr. Rochester, Mr. Eshton, and Theodore Ingram, brother of Mary and Blanche. Mr. Rochester didn't even glance my way, so I was free to watch him. Reader, you know I did not intend to love him. In fact, I had worked hard at pulling the roots of love from my soul. But he made me love him without looking at me. I knew I must conceal my feelings and remember that he couldn't care for me.
Mr. Rochester had not noticed me, but Blanche had. "Why didn't you send Adele to school?" she asked Mr. Rochester. "A governess is such a nuisance."
"I couldn't afford it," replied Mr. Rochester, still not looking at me. "Schools are expensive."
"Theodore and I used to delight in tormenting our governesses with tricks. Do you remember those merry days, Theodore?"
"Indeed I do," replied her brother with a laugh.
Blanche now seated herself with proud grace at the piano. Spreading out her dress like a queen, she played a brilliant prelude, talking all the time. Both her words and her manner seemed intended to excite the admiration and amazement of her listeners.
"Oh, I'm sick of today's young men!" she exclaimed. "They can't do anything without their mama's permission, and they're so absorbed in their own pretty faces. When I marry, I'll refuse to share my husband with the image he sees in his mirror."
She paused, but no one said anything. "Now sing, Mr. Rochester," she commanded, "and I will play for you."
"I am all obedience" was his response, and he began to sing in a powerful bass voice that quickly found its way into my heart.
Now was my time to slip away, but I found I could not leave until Mr. Rochester finished. When the song ended and conversation began, I left the room. Crossing the hall, I noticed that my shoe was loose, so I bent to tie it. I heard a door open and a man come into the hall. Rising hastily, I came face to face with Mr. Rochester.
"How do you do?" he asked.
"I'm very well, sir."
"Why didn't you come over and speak to me?"
"I didn't want to disturb you as you seemed engaged, sir."
"What have you been doing during my absence?"
"Only teaching Adele as usual."
"And getting a good deal paler than you were. What's the matter?"
"Nothing at all, sir. I'm just tired."
"And a little depressed too," he said. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing . . . nothing, sir. I'm not depressed."
"But you are depressed. A few more words and you would be crying. There, I see a tear in your eye even now." He looked at me with some concern and tenderness. "Well, I'll excuse you for leaving early tonight, but as long as my visitors stay, I expect you to appear in the sitting room every evening. Now goodnight, my . . ."
He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left me.