ting with moonrise。”
It is one of my faults； that though my tongue is sometimes prompt enough at an answer； there are times when it sadly fails me in framing an excuse； and always the lapse occurs at some crisis； when a facile word or plausible pretext is specially wanted to get me out of painful embarrassment。 I did not like to walk at this hour alone with Mr。 Rochester in the shadowy orchard； but I could not find a reason to allege for leaving him。 I followed with lagging step； and thoughts busily bent on discovering a means of extrication； but he himself looked so posed and so grave also； I became ashamed of feeling any confusion： the evil—if evil existent or prospective there was—seemed to lie with me only； his mind was unconscious and quiet。
“Jane；” he remenced； as we entered the laurel walk； and slowly strayed down in the direction of the sunk fence and the horse… chestnut； “Thornfield is a pleasant place in summer； is it not？”
“Yes； sir。”
“You must have bee in some degree attached to the house；—you； who have an eye for natural beauties； and a good deal of the organ of Adhesiveness？”
“I am attached to it； indeed。”
“And though I don’t prehend how it is； I perceive you have acquired a degree of regard for that foolish little child Adèle； too； and even for simple dame Fairfax？”
“Yes； sir； in different ways； I have an affection for both。”
“And would be sorry to part with them？”
“Yes。”
“Pity！” he said； and sighed and paused。 “It is always the way of events in this life；” he continued presently： “no sooner have you got settled in a pleasant resting…place； than a voice calls out to you to rise and move on； for the hour of repose is expired。”
“Must I move on； sir？” I asked。 “Must I leave Thor