Willingly would I now have gone and asked Mrs. Reed"s pardon; but I knew，partly from experience and partly from instinct，that was the way to make her repulse me with double scorn，thereby re-exciting every turbulent impulse of my nature.

I would fain exercise some better faculty than that of fierce speaking; fain find nourishment for some less fiendish feeling than that of sombre indignation. I took a book- some Arabian tales; I sat down and endeavoured to read. I could make no sense of the subject; my own thoughts swam always between me and the page I had usually found fascinating. I opened the glass-door in the breakfast-room: the shrubbery was quite still: the black frost reigned，unbroken by sun or breeze，through the grounds. I covered my head and arms with the skirt of my frock，and went out to walk in a part of the plantation which was quite sequestered; but I found no pleasure in the silent trees，the falling fir-cones，the congealed relics of autumn，russet leaves，swept by past winds in heaps，and now stiffened together. I leaned against a gate，and looked into an empty field where no sheep were feeding，where the short grass was nipped and blanched. It was a very grey day; a most opaque sky，"onding on snaw," canopied all; thence flakes fell at intervals，which settled on the hard path and on the hoary lea without melting. I stood，a wretched child enough，whispering to myself over and over again，"What shall I do?- what shall I do?"

All at once I heard a clear voice call，"Miss Jane! where are you? e to lunch!"

It was Bessie，I knew well enough; but I did not stir; her light step came tripping down the path.