Instead of speaking，I smiled; and not a very placent or submissive smile either.

"Speak," he urged.

"What about，sir?"

"Whatever you like. I leave both the choice of subject and the manner of treating it entirely to yourself."

Accordingly I sat and said nothing: "If he expects me to talk for the mere sake of talking and showing off，he will find he has addressed himself to the wrong person," I thought.

"You are dumb，Miss Eyre."

I was dumb still. He bent his head a little towards me，and with a single hasty glance seemed to dive into my eyes.

"Stubborn?" he said，"and annoyed. Ah! it is consistent. I put my request in an absurd，almost insolent form. Miss Eyre，I beg your pardon. The fact is，once for all，I don"t wish to treat you like an inferior: that is" (correcting himself)，"I claim only such superiority as must result from twenty years" difference in age and a century"s advance in experience. This is legitimate，et j"y tiens，as Adele would say; and it is by virtue of this superiority，and this alone，that I desire you to have the goodness to talk to me a little now，and divert my thoughts，which are galled with dwelling on one point- cankering as a rusty nail."

He had deigned an explanation，almost an apology，and I did not feel insensible to his condescension，and would not seem so.

"I am willing to amuse you，if I can，sir- quite willing; but I cannot introduce a topic，because how do I know what will interest you? Ask me questions，and I will do my best to answer them."