jane-eyre

the fire burnt clear. Bessie sat on the hearth, nursing her lastborn,
and Robert and his sister played quietly in a corner.
‘Bless you!—I knew you would come!’ exclaimed Mrs.
Leaven, as I entered.
‘Yes, Bessie,’ said I, after I had kissed her; ‘and I trust I am
not too late. How is Mrs. Reed?—Alive still, I hope.’
‘Yes, she is alive; and more sensible and collected than
she was. The doctor says she may linger a week or two yet;
but he hardly thinks she will finally recover.’
‘Has she mentioned me lately?’
‘She was talking of you only this morning, and wishing
you would come, but she is sleeping now, or was ten minutes
ago, when I was up at the house. She generally lies in a
kind of lethargy all the afternoon, and wakes up about six
or seven. Will you rest yourself here an hour, Miss, and then
I will go up with you?’
Robert here entered, and Bessie laid her sleeping child
in the cradle and went to welcome him: afterwards she insisted
on my taking off my bonnet and having some tea; for
she said I looked pale and tired. I was glad to accept her
hospitality; and I submitted to be relieved of my travelling
garb just as passively as I used to let her undress me when
a child.
Old times crowded fast back on me as I watched her bustling
about— setting out the tea-tray with her best china,
cutting bread and butter, toasting a tea-cake, and, between
whiles, giving little Robert or Jane an occasional tap or
push, just as she used to give me in former days. Bessie had
retained her quick temper as well as her light foot and good
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