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Chapter 8

Air the half-hour ended by the clock struck, schools dismissed, and all were gone into their

factory to tea. I now venture to descend. It was deep dusk. I retired into a corner and sat down

on the floor. This spell by which I had been so far supported began to dissolve. Reaction took

place. And soon so overwhelming was the grief that seized me, I sank prostrate with my face to

the ground. Now I wept. Helen Burns was not here. Nothing sustained me. Left to myself, I

abandoned myself, and my tears watered the boards. I had meant to be so good and to do so much at

lowwood, to make so many friends, to earn respect and win affection. Already I had made visible progress.

That very morning I'd reached the head of my class. Miss Miller had praised me warmly.

Miss Temple had smiled at probation. She had promised to teach me drawing,

until let me learn French, if I continued to make similar improvement two months longer.

And then I was well received by my fellow pupils, treated as an equal by those of my own age,

and not molested by any. Now here I lay again, crushed and trotted on, and could I ever rise more.

Never, I thought, and ardently I wished to die. While sobbing out this wish and broken accents,

someone approached. I started up. Again, Helen Burns was near me. The fading fires just showed her

...