“With me,” said I, “it is fully as much a matter of feeling as of
conscience: I must indulge my feelings; I so seldom have had an
opportunity of doing so. Were you to argue, object, and annoy me
for a year, I could not forego the delicious pleasure of which I have
caught a glimpse—that of repaying, in part, a mighty obligation,
and winning to myself lifelong friends.”
“You think so now,” rejoined St. John, “because you do not
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know what it is to possess, nor consequently to enjoy wealth: you
cannot form a notion of the importance twenty thousand pounds
would give you; of the place it would enable you to take in society;
of the prospects it would open to you: you cannot—”
“And you,” I interrupted, “cannot at all imagine the craving I
have for fraternal and sisterly love. I never had a home, I never
had brothers or sisters; I must and will have them now: you are
not reluctant to admit me and own me, are you?”
“Jane, I will be your brother—my sisters will be your sisters—
without stipulating for this sacrifice of your just rights.”
“Brother? Yes; at the distance of a thousand leagues! Sisters?
Yes; slaving amongst strangers! I, wealthy—gorged with gold I
never earned and do not merit! You, penniless! Famous equality
and fraternisation! Close union! Intimate attachment!”
“But, Jane, your aspirations after family ties and domestic
happiness may be realised otherwise than by the means you
contemplate: you may marry.”
“Nonsense, again! Marry! I don’t want to marry, and never shall
marry.”
“That is saying too much: such hazardous affirmations are a
proof of the excitement under which you labour.”
“It is not saying too much: I know what I feel, and how averse
are my inclinations to the bare thought of marriage. No one would
take me for love; and I will not be regarded in the light of a mere
money-speculation. And I do not want a stranger—
unsympathising, alien, different from me; I want my kindred:
those with whom I have full fellow-feeling. Say again you will be
my brother: when you uttered the words I was satisfied, happy;
repeat them, if you can, repeat them sincerely.”
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“I think I can. I know I have always loved my own sisters; and I
know on what my affection for them is grounded,—respect for
their worth and admiration of their talents. You too have principle
and mind: your tastes and habits resemble Diana’s and Mary’s;
your presence is always agreeable to me; in your conversation I
have already for some time found a salutary solace. I feel I can
easily and naturally make room in my heart for you, as my third
and youngest sister.”
“Thank you: that contents me for to-night. Now you had better
go; for if you stay longer, you will perhaps irritate me afresh by
some mistrustful scruple.”
“And the school, Miss Eyre? It must now be shut up, I
suppose?”
“No. I will retain my post of mistress till you get a substitute.”
He smiled approbation: we shook hands, and he took leave.
I need not narrate in detail the further struggles I had, and
arguments I used, to get matters regarding the legacy settled as I
wished. My task was a very hard one; but, as I was absolutely
resolved—as my cousins saw at length that my mind was really
and immutably fixed on making a just division of the property"};
