That afternoon someone requested to see me in Mrs. Fairfax's room. To my great surprise, it was Robert, the coachman from Gateshead and Bessie's husband. He was dressed in mourning clothes, and the hat he held was trimmed in black crepe.
"How is Bessie?" I asked anxiously. "Is everyone well in the Reed family? I hope no one has died."
"Bessie is well," he replied, "but John Reed died a week ago in London."
"I heard from Bessie that he wasn't doing well."
"He could do no worse, miss. He got into debt and landed in jail. His mother tried to help him, but as soon as he was set free, he returned to his old companions and habits."
John had recently asked his mother to turn over the family fortune to him, Robert continued. But she refused, her wealth having been reduced by his extravagance.
"The next news was that he'd killed himself," said Robert.
I was shocked by this report. "And how is his mother bearing up?"
"The fear of poverty was already weakening her, miss. The information about his death brought on a stroke."
Robert said that Mrs. Reed had gone days without speaking and then suddenly asked to see me. "I'd like to take you back with me tomorrow if you can get permission."
I sent Robert off to the servants' hall while I went in search of Mr. Rochester. I found him playing billiards with Blanche Ingram and some of the guests. I approached him, but he had his back to me.
"Does that person want you?" Miss Ingram asked, and he turned and saw me.
Mr. Rochester guided me out into the hall, where I explained the situation.
"How long will you stay?" He leaned against the billiards room door.
"As short a time as possible, sir."
"But you will come back. You won't be induced to take up permanent residence with her?"
"Oh no! I'll return." I hesitated for a moment. "Mr. Rochester, I may as well mention another business matter while I have the opportunity."
"A business matter?"
"You've informed me that you're going to be married. In that case, sir, Adele should go to school."
"To get her out of the way of my bride, I suppose. But where will you go?"
"I'll advertise for other employment."
"No," he said emphatically. "You must promise to trust this quest for employment to me."
"I will if you'll promise that Adele and I will be safely out of the house before your bride enters it."
He promised, and early the next morning, I journeyed to Gateshead. When I arrived, Bessie led me into the breakfast room, which looked just as it had the day I met Mr. Brocklehurst. After greeting me, Georgiana and Eliza ignored me. So I visited Mrs. Reed, but she was confused and incoherent.
More than ten days elapsed before I had any real conversation with her. Meanwhile I got on as well as I could with Georgiana and Eliza. I had brought my drawing materials, so I wasn't at a loss for amusement.
One morning I began sketching a face. At first I didn't know whose it was. But as I worked away with my soft black pencil, I soon recognized the dark hair and equally dark eyes of Mr. Rochester. I now had my friend's face to look at, so it didn't matter that the young ladies had turned their backs on me.
"Is that a portrait of someone you know?" asked Eliza, who had suddenly approached.
"No . . . no . . ." I hurried to hide the drawing beneath some others.
Georgiana also came over to look at my work. Both women seemed surprised at my skill. When I offered to draw their portraits, they each sat for a pencil sketch. Later Georgiana proposed a walk on the grounds. She was soon confiding in me about the brilliant winter she had spent in London, where she had met the nobleman who'd wanted to marry her.
As the days passed, Eliza still spoke little; she evidently had no time to talk. After breakfast she divided her time into regular portions, and each hour had its allotted task: praying, sewing, writing, gardening. She told me one evening that she had managed to secure her own fortune and that when her mother died, she would retreat to a tranquil place.
When not unburdening her heart to me, Georgiana spent most of her time lying on the sofa. It was clear to me that the sisters disliked each other and that Georgiana still blamed Eliza for ruining her chances of marrying the nobleman.
One wet and windy afternoon, their arguing left Georgiana in tears. Eliza immediately busied herself with work, so I went upstairs to visit Mrs. Reed.
At first she didn't recognize me, but she began to speak once she was assured that I was Jane Eyre and that we were alone.
"I have twice done you wrong, which I regret now," she said. "Once was in breaking the promise I made to my husband to bring you up as my own child. The other . . ."
She paused and seemed to be considering whether to continue. Finally she ordered me to remove a letter from a drawer in her dressing table.
"Read it," she commanded.
Madame,
Will you have the goodness to send me the address of my niece, Jane Eyre, and to tell me how she is? I intend to invite her to live with me in Madeira. As I am a prosperous man with no family, I wish to adopt her during my life and bequeath her my estate at my death.
Sincerely, John Eyre
I was stunned to see that the letter was dated three years earlier. "Why did I never hear of this?"
"Because I disliked you too thoroughly to ever help you reach prosperity. I could never forget the fury in which you declared your hatred of me. Oh, bring me some water! Hurry!"
I fetched some water. "Forgive me my passionate language, Mrs. Reed. I was but a child then, and eight or nine years have now passed."
"I could not forget your fury," she repeated, "and so I took my revenge. I told John Eyre that you'd died of typhus fever at Lowood."
I tried to tell her that I'd forgiven her and wanted to be reconciled with her. But my aunt would not listen. Finally I bent down so she could kiss my cheek, but she said I oppressed her by leaning over the bed.
That night she died.