CHAPTER XXIII 315
" Look at his wings ," said he , " he reminds me rather of a West Indian insect ; one does not often see so large and gay a night-rover in England ; there ! he is flown ."
The moth roamed away . I was sheepishly retreating also ; but Mr . Rochester followed me , and when we reached the wicket , he said -
" Turn back : on so lovely a night it is a shame to sit in the house ; and surely no one can wish to go to bed while sunset is thus at meeting with moonrise ."
It is one of my faults , that though my tongue is sometimes prompt enough at an answer , there are times when it sadly fails me in framing an excuse ; and always the lapse occurs at some crisis , when a facile word or plausible pretext is specially wanted to get me out of painful embarrassment . I did not like to walk at this hour alone with Mr . Rochester in the shadowy orchard ; but I could not find a reason to allege for leaving him . I followed with lagging step , and thoughts busily bent on discovering a means of extrication ; but he himself looked so composed and so grave also , I became ashamed of feeling any confusion : the evil -- if evil existent or prospective there was -- seemed to lie with me only ; his mind was unconscious and quiet .
" Jane ," he recommenced , as we entered the laurel walk , and slowly strayed down in the direction of the sunk fence and the horse-chestnut , " Thornfield is a pleasant place in summer , is it not ?"
" Yes , sir ."
" You must have become in some degree attached to the house , -- you , who have an eye for natural beauties , and a good deal of the organ of Adhesiveness ?"
" I am attached to it , indeed ."