ERE the half-hour ended，five o"clock struck; school was dismissed，and all were gone into the refectory to tea. I now ventured to descend: it was deep dusk; I retired into a corner and sat down on the floor. The spell by which I had been so far supported began to dissolve; reaction took place，and soon，so overwhelming was the grief that seized me，I sank prostrate with my face to the ground. Now I wept: Helen Burns was not here; nothing sustained me; left to myself I abandoned myself，and my tears watered the boards. I had meant to be so good，and to do so much at Lowood: to make so many friends，to earn respect and win affection. Already I had made visible progress; that very morning I had reached the head of my class; Miss Miller had praised me warmly; Miss Temple had smiled approbation; she had promised to teach me drawing，and to let me learn French，if I continued to make similar improvement two months longer: and then I was well received by my fellow-pupils; treated as an equal by those of my own age，and not molested by any; now，here I lay again crushed and trodden on; and could I ever rise more?

"Never," I thought; and ardently I wished to die. While sobbing out this wish in broken accents，some one approached: I started up- again Helen Burns was near me; the fading fires just showed her ing up the long，vacant room; she brought my coffee and bread.

"e，eat something," she said; but I put both away from me，feeling as if a drop or a crumb would have choked me in my present condition. Helen regarded me，probably with surprise: I could not now abate my agitation，though I tried hard; I continued to weep aloud. She sat down on the ground near me，embraced her knees with her arms，and rested her head upon them; in that attitude she remained silent as an Indian. I was the first who spoke-

"Helen，why do you stay with a girl whom everybody believes to be a liar?"