"No，you are wrong. And now，never mind what I have been: don"t trouble your head further about me; but tell me the name of the house where we are."

"Some calls it Marsh End，and some calls it Moor House."

"And the gentleman who lives here is called Mr. St. John?"

"Nay; he doesn"t live here: he is only staying a while. When he is at home，he is in his own parish at Morton."

"That village a few miles off?"

"Aye."

"And what is he?"

"He is a parson."

I remembered the answer of the old housekeeper at the parsonage，when I had asked to see the clergyman. "This，then，was his father"s residence?"

"Aye; old Mr. Rivers lived here，and his father，and grandfather，and gurt (great) grandfather afore him."

"The name，then，of that gentleman，is Mr. St. John Rivers?"

"Aye; St. John is like his kirstened name."

"And his sisters are called Diana and Mary Rivers?"

"Yes."

"Their father is dead?"

"Dead three weeks sin" of a stroke."

"They have no mother?"

"The mistress has been dead this mony a year."

"Have you lived with the family long?"

"I"ve lived here thirty year. I nursed them all three"

"That proves you must have been an honest and faithful servant. I will say so much for you，though you have had the incivility to call me a beggar."

She again regarded me with a surprised stare. "I believe," she said，"I was quite mista"en in my thoughts of you: but there is so mony cheats goes about，you mun forgie me."

"And though," I continued，rather severely，"you wished to turn me from the door，on a night when you should not have shut out a dog."