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'Qu'avez-vous, mademoiselle?' said she. 'Vos doigts tremblent comme
la feuille, et vos joues sont rouges: mais, rouges comme des cerises!'
'I am hot, Adele, with stooping!' She went on sketching; I went
on thinking.
I hastened to drive from my mind the hateful notion I had been
conceiving respecting Grace Poole; it disgusted me. I compared
myself with her, and found we were different. Bessie Leaven had said I
was quite a lady; and she spoke truth- I was a lady. And now I
looked much better than I did when Bessie saw me; I had more colour
and more flesh, more life, more vivacity, because I had brighter hopes
and keener enjoyments.
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'Evening approaches,' said I, as I looked towards the window. 'I
have never heard Mr. Rochester's voice or step in the house to-day;
but surely I shall see him before night: I feared the meeting in the
morning; now I desire it, because expectation has been so long baffled
that it is grown impatient.'
When dusk actually closed, and when Adele left me to go and play in
the nursery with Sophie, I did most keenly desire it. I listened for
the bell to ring below; I listened for Leah coming up with a
message; I fancied sometimes I heard Mr. Rochester's own tread, and
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