CHAPTER XVII 207
" She gets good wages, I guess?"
" Yes," said Leah; " I wish I had as good; not that mine are to complain of,-- there ' s no stinginess at Thornfield; but they ' re not one fifth of the sum Mrs. Poole receives. And she is laying by: she goes every quarter to the bank at Millcote. I should not wonder but she has saved enough to keep her independent if she liked to leave; but I suppose she ' s got used to the place; and then she ' s not forty yet, and strong and able for anything. It is too soon for her to give up business."
" She is a good hand, I daresay," said the charwoman.
" Ah!-- she understands what she has to do,-- nobody better," rejoined Leah significantly; " and it is not every one could fill her shoes-- not for all the money she gets."
" That it is not!" was the reply. " I wonder whether the master-- "
The charwoman was going on; but here Leah turned and perceived me, and she instantly gave her companion a nudge.
" Doesn ' t she know?" I heard the woman whisper.
Leah shook her head, and the conversation was of course dropped. All I had gathered from it amounted to this,-- that there was a mystery at Thornfield; and that from participation in that mystery I was purposely excluded.
Thursday came: all work had been completed the previous evening; carpets were laid down, bed-hangings festooned, radiant white counterpanes spread, toilet tables arranged, furniture rubbed, flowers piled in vases: both chambers and saloons looked as fresh and bright as hands could make them. The hall, too, was scoured; and the great carved clock, as well as the steps and banisters of the staircase, were polished to the brightness of glass; in the dining-room, the sideboard flashed resplendent with plate; in the drawing-room and boudoir, vases of exotics bloomed on all sides.