10 Chapter10 The mystery of Grace Poole

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 In the morning I wanted to see Mr. Rochester but I could not find him. At first, I thought he had told his servants that the fire was an accident. When I passed his bedroom, I saw Grace Poole sitting in a chair and cleaning something. She did not look like someone who could kill another person. But I decided to talk to her. "Good morning, Grace," I said, coming into the room. "Tell me, what happened last night? Why was there a fire? All the servants are talking about it."

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"Good morning, Miss Eyre," She said. "Well, Master Edward was reading in bed and fell asleep. The candle must have fallen over. The candle put the sheets on fire, but he was able to put the fire out quickly with some water." "How strange!" I said quietly. "Didn't anybody wake up, and hear what was happening?" When I said this, Grace seemed to look at me more carefully. I noticed a strange look on her face, like fear.[ "Well, Mrs. Fairfax and you have rooms near Master Edward's. Mrs. Fairfax is a heavy sleeper, like most old people, and she didn't hear anything. But you're young, Miss Eyre. Did you hear a noise?" "Yes," I said. "I'm sure I heard a strange laugh." Grace did not look upset by my words. Instead she went on cleaning the room calmly.

"I don't think Master Edward would have laughed, when his life was in danger, Miss Eyre. You must have been dreaming," she said. "No, I wasn't dreaming, Grace. And I know what Mr. Edward's laugh sounds like. It was someone else," I said very firmly. "Did you open the door? Did you see anyone in the hall?" she said. She looked angry and frightened, like a trapped animal. Suddenly I realized that if Grace thought that I knew what she had done, she might try to hurt me. "No, I didn't open my door. I locked it," I answered, "and I will lock it every night from now on." "That's very wise, Miss Eyre. There might be a criminal around, you never know!" I was amazed by her calmness, and I could not understand why Mr. Rochester had not taken her to the police, or made her leave the house. Why had he asked me to keep the fire a secret? Mr. Rochester was strong and proud. Why did he not punish a servant for trying to hurt him? Perhaps Grace Poole knew a terrible secret from his past, and had promised to tell everyone if he tried to hurt her. Was he in love with her?[ "No," I thought, "that's impossible. He could never love anyone as plain and strange as she is. But then, I'm not beautiful either, and sometimes I think he loves me. The things he said to me last night! The look on his face!" And my cheeks were red as I thought of those moments. Now I was even more impatient to see Mr. Rochester, but he did not appear. When I was having tea with Mrs. Fairfax that afternoon, she said, "It's a good day for the master's journey." "Journey!" I cried. "Where did he go?" "He left after breakfast, to visit a family in a big house about sixteen miles away. This family has asked many people to stay there for a party that will last for a week. The ladies at these parties always like Mr. Rochester very much, so he may not come back for a while." "Who are the ladies that will be at this party?" I asked. "There are three sisters, who are very pretty young ladies, and their friends, Blanche and Mary Ingram. But Blanche is the most beautiful of them all. I saw her once when she came to a Christmas party at Thornfield, six or seven years ago." "What does she look like?" "She was eighteen then, a lovely girl, with beautiful white and pink skin, long curling black hair, and large eyes which shone like black jewels! She looked like a queen. All the men loved her, because of her beauty and her lovely voice. Mr. Rochester has a good voice also, did you know? When she and Mr. Rochester sang together, it is wonderful to listen to." A Conversation with Grace Poole "I didn't know he could sing, " I said. I felt very strange inside as I listened to Mrs. Fairfax speak. "Oh yes, it's true. Blanche can also play the piano. The Master Edward said she played extremely well." "And this beautiful lady isn't married yet?"

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"No, because I don't think the Ingram family has much money." "But don't you think some rich gentleman hasn't fallen in love with her? Mr. Rochester, for example...he has money, doesn't he?" "Oh yes, he has money. But you see, Mr. Rochester is almost forty, and she's only twenty-five." "Well, women marry men older than they are every day. And forty isn't old at all," I said. That night in my room I said some hard words to myself. "Jane Eyre," I said to myself, "you are a fool! Why would a fine, wealthy gentleman like Mr. Rochester love you, a poor, plain governess? Just look at yourself in the mirror!" I decided that I would draw an honest picture of myself. Then I would draw one of Blanche Ingram, painting the most beautiful young woman I could imagine. Then, whenever I thought about Mr. Rochester, I could look at the two pictures and see the great difference between us. In this way, I would destroy my foolish dreams. Certainly Mr. Rochester would want to marry a woman like Blanche Ingram.