CHAPTER XXXVII 561
" What, Jane! Is this true? Is such really the state of matters between you and Rivers?"
" Absolutely, sir! Oh, you need not be jealous! I wanted to tease you a little to make you less sad: I thought anger would be better than grief. But if you wish me to love you, could you but see how much I DO love you, you would be proud and content. All my heart is yours, sir: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence for ever."
Again, as he kissed me, painful thoughts darkened his aspect. " My scarred vision! My crippled strength!" he murmured regretfully.
I caressed, in order to soothe him. I knew of what he was thinking, and wanted to speak for him, but dared not. As he turned aside his face a minute, I saw a tear slide from under the sealed eyelid, and trickle down the manly cheek. My heart swelled.
" I am no better than the old lightning-struck chestnut-tree in Thornfield orchard," he remarked ere long. " And what right would that ruin have to bid a budding woodbine cover its decay with freshness?"
" You are no ruin, sir-- no lightning-struck tree: you are green and vigorous. Plants will grow about your roots, whether you ask them or not, because they take delight in your bountiful shadow; and as they grow they will lean towards you, and wind round you, because your strength offers them so safe a prop."
Again he smiled: I gave him comfort. " You speak of friends, Jane?" he asked.
" Yes, of friends," I answered rather hesitatingly: for I knew I meant more than friends, but could not tell what other word to employ. He helped me.
" Ah! Jane. But I want a wife."