Джэйн Эйр

Chapter XXIX

           "Besides,thefireistoohotforyou,"interposedMary. 

           "Tobesure,"addedhersister."Come,youmustbeobedient."Andstillholdingmyhandshemademerise,andledmeintotheinnerroom. 

           "Sitthere,"shesaid,placingmeonthesofa,"whilewetakeourthingsoffandgettheteaready;itisanotherprivilegeweexerciseinourlittlemoorlandhome—toprepareourownmealswhenwearesoinclined,orwhenHannahisbaking,brewing,washing,orironing." 

           Sheclosedthedoor,leavingmesoluswithMr.St.John,whosatopposite,abookornewspaperinhishand.Iexaminedfirst,theparlour,andthenitsoccupant. 

           Theparlourwasratherasmallroom,veryplainlyfurnished,yetcomfortable,becausecleanandneat. Theold-fashionedchairswereverybright,andthewalnut-woodtablewaslikealooking-glass. Afewstrange,antiqueportraitsofthemenandwomenofotherdaysdecoratedthestainedwalls;acupboardwithglassdoorscontainedsomebooksandanancientsetofchina. Therewasnosuperfluousornamentintheroom—notonemodernpieceoffurniture,saveabraceofworkboxesandalady’sdeskinrosewood,whichstoodonaside-table:everything—includingthecarpetandcurtains—lookedatoncewellwornandwellsaved. 

           Mr.St.John—sittingasstillasoneofthedustypicturesonthewalls,keepinghiseyesfixedonthepageheperused,andhislipsmutelysealed—waseasyenoughtoexamine. Hadhebeenastatueinsteadofaman,hecouldnothavebeeneasier. 

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