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"She was kept in very close confinement, ma'am: people even for some years was not absolutely certain of her existence.

No one saw her: they only knew by rumour that such a person was at the Hall; and who or what she was it was difficult to conjecture.

They said Mr. Edward had brought her from abroad, and some believed she had been his mistress.

But a queer thing happened a year since-a very queer thing."

I feared now to hear my own story. I endeavoured to recall him to the main fact.

"And this lady?"

"This lady, ma'am," he answered, "turned out to be Mr. Rochester's wife! The discovery was brought about in the strangest way. There was a young lady, a governess at the Hall, that Mr. Rochester fell in-"

"But the fire," I suggested.

"I'm coming to that, ma'am-that Mr. Edward fell in love with.

The servants say they never saw anybody so much in love as he was: he was after her continually.

They used to watch him-servants will, you know, ma'am-and he set store on her past everything: for all, nobody but him thought her so very handsome.

She was a little small thing, they say, almost like a child.

I never saw her myself; but I've heard Leah, the house-maid, tell of her.

Leah liked her well enough.

Mr. Rochester was about forty, and this governess not twenty; and you see, when gentlemen of his age fall in love with girls, they are often like as if they were bewitched.

Well, he would marry her."

"You shall tell me this part of the story another time," I said; "but now I have a particular reason for wishing to hear all about the fire. Was it suspected that this lunatic, Mrs. Rochester, had any hand in it?"

"You've hit it, ma'am: it's quite certain that it was her, and nobody but her, that set it going.

She had a woman to take care of her called Mrs. Poole-an able woman in her line, and very trustworthy, but for one fault-a fault common to a deal of them nurses and matrons-she kept a private bottle of gin by her, and now and then took a drop over-much.

It is excusable, for she had a hard life of it: but still it was dangerous; for when Mrs. Poole was fast asleep after the gin and water, the mad lady, who was as cunning as a witch, would take the keys out of her pocket, let herself out of her chamber, and go roaming about the house, doing any wild mischief that came into her head.

They say she had nearly burnt her husband in his bed once: but I don't know about that.

However, on this night, she set fire first to the hangings of the room next her own, and then she got down to a lower storey, and made her way to the chamber that had been the governess's-(she was like as if she knew somehow how matters had gone on, and had a spite at her)-and she kindled the bed there; but there was nobody sleeping in it, fortunately.

The governess had run away two months before; and for all Mr. Rochester sought her as if she had been the most precious thing he had in the world, he never could hear a word of her; and he grew savage-quite savage on his disappointment: he never was a wild man, but he got dangerous after he lost her.

He would be alone, too.

He sent Mrs. Fairfax, the housekeeper, away to her friends at a distance; but he did it handsomely, for he settled an annuity on her for life: and she deserved it-she was a very good woman.

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