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like a Dian. I regarded her, of course, with special interest.
First, I wished to see whether her appearance accorded with Mrs.
Fairfax's description; secondly, whether it at all resembled the fancy
miniature I had painted of her; and thirdly- it will out!- whether
it were such as I should fancy likely to suit Mr. Rochester's taste.
As far as person went, she answered point for point, both to my
picture and Mrs. Fairfax's description. The noble bust, the sloping
shoulders, the graceful neck, the dark eyes and black ringlets were
all there;- but her face? Her face was like her mother's; a youthful
unfurrowed likeness: the same low brow, the same high features, the
same pride. It was not, however, so saturnine a pride! she laughed
continually; her laugh was satirical, and so was the habitual
expression of her arched and haughty lip.
Genius is said to be self-conscious. I cannot tell whether Miss
Ingram was a genius, but she was self-conscious- remarkably
self-conscious indeed. She entered into a discourse on botany with the
gentle Mrs. Dent. It seemed Mrs. Dent had not studied that science:
though, as she said, she liked flowers, 'especially wild ones'; Miss
Ingram had, and she ran over its vocabulary with an air. I presently
perceived she was (what is vernacularly termed) trailing Mrs. Dent;
that is, playing on her ignorance: her trail might be clever, but it
was decidedly not good-natured. She played: her execution was
brilliant; she sang, her voice was fine; she talked French apart to
her mama; and she talked it well, with fluency and with a good accent.
Mary had a milder and more open countenance than Blanche; softer
features too, and a skin some shades fairer (Miss Ingram was dark as a
Spaniard)- but Mary was deficient in life: her face lacked expression,
her eye lustre; she had nothing to say, and having once taken her
seat, remained fixed like a statue in its niche. The sisters were both
attired in spotless white.
And did I now think Miss Ingram such a choice as Mr. Rochester
would be likely to make? I could not tell- I did not know his taste in
female beauty. If he liked the majestic, she was the very type of
majesty: then she was accomplished, sprightly. Most gentlemen would
admire her, I thought; and that he did admire her, I already seemed to
have obtained proof: to remove the last shade of doubt, it remained
but to see them together.
You are not to suppose, reader, that Adele has all this time been
sitting motionless on the stool at my feet: no; when the ladies
entered, she rose, advanced to meet them, made a stately reverence,
and said with gravity-
'Bon jour, mesdames.'
And Miss Ingram had looked down at her with a mocking air, and
exclaimed, 'Oh, what a little puppet!'
Lady Lynn had remarked, 'It is Mr. Rochester's ward, I suppose- the
little French girl he was speaking of.'
Mrs. Dent had kindly taken her hand, and given her a kiss. Amy