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given by Mrs. Fairfax of Blanche Ingram; remember the raven
ringlets, the oriental eye;- What! you revert to Mr. Rochester as a
model! Order! No snivel!- no sentiment!- no regret! I will endure only
sense and resolution. Recall the august yet harmonious lineaments, the
Grecian neck and bust; let the round and dazzling arm be visible,
and the delicate hand; omit neither diamond ring nor gold bracelet;
portray faithfully the attire, aerial lace and glistening satin,
graceful scarf and golden rose; call it "Blanche, an accomplished lady
of rank."
'Whenever, in future, you should chance to fancy Mr. Rochester
thinks well of you, take out these two pictures and compare them: say,
"Mr. Rochester might probably win that noble lady's love, if he
chose to strive for it; is it likely he would waste a serious
thought on this indigent and insignificant plebeian?"'
'I'll do it,' I resolved: and having framed this determination, I
grew calm, and fell asleep.
I kept my word. An hour or two sufficed to sketch my own portrait
in crayons; and in less than a fortnight I had completed an ivory
miniature of an imaginary Blanche Ingram. It looked a lovely face
enough, and when compared with the real head in chalk, the contrast
was as great as self-control could desire. I derived benefit from
the task: it had kept my head and hands employed, and had given
force and fixedness to the new impressions I wished to stamp indelibly
on my heart.
Ere long, I had reason to congratulate myself on the course of
wholesome discipline to which I had thus forced my feelings to submit.
Thanks to it, I was able to meet subsequent occurrences with a
decent calm, which, had they found me unprepared, I should probably
have been unequal to maintain, even externally.
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CHAPTER XVII
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A WEEK passed, and no news arrived of Mr. Rochester: ten days,
and still he did not come. Mrs. Fairfax said she should not be
surprised if he were to go straight from the Leas to London, and
thence to the Continent, and not show his face again at Thornfield for
a year to come; he had not unfrequently quitted it in a manner quite
as abrupt and unexpected. When I heard this, I was beginning to feel a
strange chill and failing at the heart. I was actually permitting
myself to experience a sickening sense of disappointment; but rallying
my wits, and recollecting my principles, I at once called my
sensations to order; and it was wonderful how I got over the temporary
blunder- how I cleared up the mistake of supposing Mr. Rochester's
movements a matter in which I had any cause to take a vital
interest. Not that I humbled myself by a slavish notion of
inferiority: on the contrary, I just said-
'You have nothing to do with the master of Thornfield, further than