CHAPTER V 50
CHAPTER V
Five o ' clock had hardly struck on the morning of the 19th of January, when Bessie brought a candle into my closet and found me already up and nearly dressed. I had risen half-an-hour before her entrance, and had washed my face, and put on my clothes by the light of a half-moon just setting, whose rays streamed through the narrow window near my crib. I was to leave Gateshead that day by a coach which passed the lodge gates at six a. m. Bessie was the only person yet risen; she had lit a fire in the nursery, where she now proceeded to make my breakfast. Few children can eat when excited with the thoughts of a journey; nor could I. Bessie, having pressed me in vain to take a few spoonfuls of the boiled milk and bread she had prepared for me, wrapped up some biscuits in a paper and put them into my bag; then she helped me on with my pelisse and bonnet, and wrapping herself in a shawl, she and I left the nursery. As we passed Mrs. Reed ' s bedroom, she said, " Will you go in and bid Missis good-bye?"
" No, Bessie: she came to my crib last night when you were gone down to supper, and said I need not disturb her in the morning, or my cousins either; and she told me to remember that she had always been my best friend, and to speak of her and be grateful to her accordingly."
" What did you say, Miss?"
" Nothing: I covered my face with the bedclothes, and turned from her to the wall."
" That was wrong, Miss Jane."
" It was quite right, Bessie. Your Missis has not been my friend: she has been my foe."
" O Miss Jane! don ' t say so!"
" Good-bye to Gateshead!" cried I, as we passed through the hall and went out at the front door.