CHAPTER 22.

Mr. Rochester had given me but one week's leave of absence. Yet a month elapsed before

a quitted gateshead. I wish to leave immediately after the funeral, but Georgiana intreated me

to stay till she could get off to London, with her she was now at last invited by her

uncle, Mr. Gibson, who had come down to direct his sister's internment and settle the family

affairs. Georgiana said she dreaded being left alone with a laiza. From her she got neither

sympathy in her dejection, supporting her fears, nor aid in her preparations. So I bore

with her feeble-minded wailings and selfish lamentations, as well as I could, and did my

best in sowing for her and packing her dresses. It is true that while I worked she would

idle, and I thought to myself, if you and I were destined to live always together, cousin,

we would commence matters on a different footing. I should not settle tamedly down into being

the forebearing party. I should assign you, your share of labor, and compel you to accomplish

it, or else it should be left undone. I should insist also on your keeping some of those

drolling half-insincere complaints, hushed in your own breast. It is only because our

connection happens to be very transitory, and comes at a mournful season that I consent

thus to render it so patient and compliant on my part. At last I saw Georgiana off. But

now it was a laiza's turn to request me to stay another week. Her plans required all

her time and attention, she said. She was about to depart for some unknown born, and all

day long she stayed in her own room. Her door bolted within, filling trunks, emptying

drawers, burning papers, and holding no communication with anyone. She wished me to look after the

house to seek callers and answer notes of condolence. One morning she told me I was at

liberty, and she added, I'm obliged to you for your valuable services and discrete conduct.

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