Эмили Бронте

Сборник лучших произведений английской классической литературы. Уровень 3


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improvement two months longer. I was well received by my fellow-pupils; treated as an equal by those of my own age, and not bullied by any. Now everything was ruined.

      I heard someone approach-again Helen Burns was near me. She brought my coffee and bread.

      “Come, eat something,” she said kindly, and sat down next to me, but I put both away from me.

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

      “Everybody, Jane? Why, there are only eighty people who have heard it, and the world contains hundreds of millions.”

      “I do not care about millions. The eighty I know now despise me.”

      “You are wrong, probably not one in the school either despises or dislikes you. Many though pity you.”

      “How can they pity me after what Mr. Brocklehurst's words?”

      “Mr. Brocklehurst is not a god. No one here likes him. If he had treated you as an especial favourite, you would have found enemies. As it is, you might find people look at you coldly for a day or two, but they sympathise with you in their hearts. Besides…”

      “Well, Helen?” I said putting my hand into hers.

      “If all the world hated you, you would not be without friends.”

      “I cannot bear to be hated.”

      “You think too much of the love of human beings. Remember, our life is very short, and we should not sink into distress. Besides this earth, and besides the race of men, there is an invisible world of spirits: that world is round us, for it is everywhere; and those spirits watch us and guard us. They always recognise innocence.”

      I was silent; Helen had calmed me. There was sadness in her voice I could still not understand, she breathed a little fast and coughed a little. I momentarily forgot my sorrows feeling concern about her. Resting my head on Helen's shoulder, I put my arms round her waist. That was how Miss Temple found us.

      “I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre. I want you in my room; and as Helen Burns is with you, I want her to come too.”

      We followed her away from the schoolroom along passages I had never seen and up a staircase before we reached her apartment. It contained a good fire, cozy low armchairs around and looked cheerful.

      We sat down, and Miss Temple asked: “Is it all over, Jane? Have you cried your sorrows away?”

      “I am afraid I will never do that,” I said. “I have been wrongly accused, and now everyone will think I am wicked.”

      “We will consider you to be what you prove yourself to be, my child. Continue to act as a good girl, and we will never think you are wicked.”

      I could hardly believe her kindness.

      “And now tell me about this benefactress of yours. Why did she call you a liar? Defend yourself to me as well as you can, but add nothing and exaggerate nothing.”

      I told her all about Mrs. Reed, and John Reed, and the red-room, and all the things that happened at Gateshead Hall. I tried to restrain myself, the story turned out to be less emotional than usual but more credible.

      When I finished, Miss Temple regarded me a few minutes in silence, and then said, “I know Mr. Lloyd, and I will write to him. If his reply agrees with your story, I will know you are not a liar, and I will clear your name, and tell the whole school you are innocent. But I believe you already.”

      She kissed me, and then addressed Helen Burns, “How are you tonight, Helen? Have you coughed much?”

      “Not quite so much, I think, ma'am.”

      “And the pain in your chest?”

      “It is a little better.”

      Miss Temple checked Helen's pulse and sighed. But then she smiled cheerfully and said, “But you two are my guests tonight, I must treat you as such.”

      She called her servant and ordered tea, bread and butter. But the servant came back only with plates and teacups for three but only one toast. She explained the cook would not provide more bread and butter. She was too afraid that Mr. Brocklehurst would find out.

      As soon as we were left alone, Miss Temple invited Helen and me to approach the table and gave each of us a cup of tea with one delicious but thin morsel of toast[16]. Then she got up, opened a cupboard, and took out a whole fruitcake with nuts on top, wrapped in wax paper.

      “I wanted to give each of you some of this to take with you,” she said, “but as there is so little toast, you will have cake now.”

      What an earthly heaven I was in that night!

      The china teacups looked so pretty in the firelight, with their patterns of tiny flowers. The steam from the teapot, the aroma of hot toast, and the sight of the thick slices of cake on the plates filled me with joy. As we feasted, and I listened to Helen talking to Miss Temple about French books and faraway places, I couldn't think of a time when I had been happier. Not only was I eating well for the first time in weeks, but I was with beautiful, kind, wise Miss Temple, and I felt safe and warm.

      Just a week later, Miss Temple stood before the school to make an announcement. She had made inquiries, she told us, and she had discovered, from a reliable source, that the allegations made against Miss Jane Eyre were false. Everyone applauded, and all the teachers hugged me. My name was cleared.

      From that day onward, I resolved to work harder than ever. Soon I was put up to the next class, and, as I had been promised, started to learn French and drawing. Now I would not have exchanged Lowood with all its hardships for Gateshead with its daily luxuries.

      Chapter 9

      But the hardships of Lowood lessened. Spring came. The snows of winter melted. The nights and mornings were not so freezing cold any longer. First flowers started to appear amongst leaves. On Thursday afternoons we now took walks, and I realized that in spring the countryside around Lowood was beautiful. There was a clear stream nearby, and the school stood in the middle of a pretty wooded valley surrounded by high hills, purple with heather.

      May followed April and brought days of blue skies and sunshine with it. All this beauty I enjoyed often and fully, free, unwatched, and almost alone. For this liberty and pleasure there was, however, an unpleasant cause.

      Even though Lowood had a beautiful setting, it was not a healthy one. The nearby forest was full of for that crept into the school and breathed typhus through its crowded schoolroom and dormitory. Ere May arrived, our school was transformed into a hospital.

      If we had all been strong and well-fed[17], it wouldn't have mattered so much. But, semi-starvation and neglected colds made forty-five girls ill at one time. Classes were broken up, rules relaxed. The teachers spent every moment looking after the ill or packing things of those who were fortunate enough to have friends and relatives and could leave Lowood at once. Many went home to die, some died at school and were buried quietly and quickly.

      While the disease had become an inhabitant of Lowood, and death its frequent visitor, gardens glowed with flowers: lilies, roses and tulips were in bloom. Some of these lovely flowers ended up as a humble decoration for the coffins.

      But I, and the rest who continued well, enjoyed the beauties of the scene and season. We walked in the wood from morning till night, we did what we liked, went where we liked: we lived better too.

      Mr. Brocklehurst and his family never came near Lowood now driven away by the fear of infection. The servants and teachers were kinder to us. They gave us slices of pie, apples and parcels of bread and cheese to take out on our explorations.

      I usually found a large, flat stone in the middle of the stream, where I had a picnic every day with my chosen friend Mary Ann. She was witty and original, and had a manner which set me at my ease. Some years older than I, she knew more of the world, and could tell me many things I liked to hear. She could tell stories well, I could analyse; she liked to inform, I liked to question, and we spent hours talking.

      And