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“my living darling！ these are certainly her limbs； and these her features； but i cannot be so blest； after all my misery。 it is a dream； such dreams as i have had at night when i have clasped her once more to my heart； as i do now； and kissed her； as thus—and felt that she loved me； and trusted that she would not leave me。”
“which i never will； sir； from this day。”
“never will； says the vision？ but i always woke and found it an empty mockery； and i was desolate and abandoned—my life dark； lonely； hopeless—my soul athirst and forbidden to drink—my heart famished and never to be fed。 gentle； soft dream； nestling in my arms now； you will fly； too； as your sisters have all fled before you： but kiss me before you go—embrace me； jane。”
“there； sir—and there！”’
i pressed my lips to his once brilliant and now rayless eyes—i swept his hair from his brow； and kissed that too。 he suddenly seemed to arouse himself： the conviction of the reality of all this seized him。
“it is you—is it； jane？ you are e back to me then？”
“i am。”
“and you do not lie dead in some ditch under some stream？ and you are not a pining outcast amongst strangers？”
“no； sir！ i am an independent woman now。”
“independent！ what do you mean； jane？”
“my uncle in madeira is dead； and he left me five thousand pounds。”
“ah！ this is practical—this is real！” he cried： “i should never dream that。 besides； there is that peculiar voice of hers； so animating and piquant； as well as soft： it cheers my withered heart； it puts life into it。—what； janet！ are you an independent woman？ a rich woman？”
“if you won’t let me live with you； i can build a house of my own close up to your door； and you may e and sit in my parlour when you want pany of an evening。”
“but as you are rich； jane； you have now； no doubt； friends who will look after you； and not suffer you to devote yourself to a blind lameter like me？”
“i told you i am independent； sir； as well as rich： i am my own mistress。”
“and you will stay with me？”
“certainly—unless you object。 i will be your neighbour； your nurse； your housekeeper。 i find you lonely： i will be your panion—to read to you； to walk with you； to sit with you； to wait on you； to be eyes and hands to you。 cease to look so melancholy； my dear master； you shall not be left desolate； so long as i live。”
he replied not： he seemed serious—abstracted； he sighed； he half… opened his lips as if to speak： he closed them again。 i felt a little embarrassed。 perhaps i had too rashly over…leaped conventionalities； and he； like st。 john； saw impropriety in my inconsiderateness。 i had indeed made my proposal from the idea that he wished and would ask me to be his wife： an expectation； not the less certain because unexpressed； had buoyed me up； that he would claim me at once as his own。 but no hint to that effect escaping him and his countenance being more overcast； i suddenly remembered that i might have been all wrong； and was perhaps playing the fool unwittingly； and i began gently to withdraw myself from his arms—but he eagerly snatched me closer。
“no—no—jane； you must not go。 no—i have touched you； heard you； felt the fort of your presence—the sweetness of your consolation： i cannot give up these joys。 i have little left in myself—i must have you。 the world may laugh—may call me absurd； selfish—but it does not signify。 my very soul demands you： it will be satisfied； or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame。”
“well； sir； i will stay with you： i have said so。”
“yes—but you understand one thing by staying with me； and i understand another。 you； perhaps； could make up your mind to be about my hand and chair—to wait on me as a kind little nurse （for you have an affectionate heart and a generous spirit； which prompt you to make sacrifices for those you pity）； and that ought to suffice for me no doubt。 i suppose i should now entertain none but fatherly feelings for you： do you think so？ e—tell me。”
“i will think what you like； sir： i am content to be only your nurse； if you think it better。”
“but you cannot always be my nurse； janet： you are young—you must marry one day。”
“i don’t care about being married。”
“you should care； janet： if i were what i once was； i would try to make you care—but—a sightless block！”
he relapsed again into gloom。 i； on the contrary； became more cheerful； and took fresh courage： these last words gave me an insight as to where the difficulty lay； and as it was no difficulty with me； i felt quite relieved from my previous embarrassment。 i resumed a livelier vein of conversation。
“it is time some one undertook to rehumanise you；” said i； parting his thick and long uncut locks； “for i see you are being metamorphosed into a lion； or something of that sort。 you have a ‘faux air’ of nebuchadnezzar in the fields about you； that is certain： your hair reminds me of eagles’ feathers； whether your nails are grown like birds’ claws or not； i have not yet noticed。”
“on this arm； i have neither hand nor nails；” he said； drawing the mutilated limb from his breast； and showing it to me。 “it is a mere stump—a ghastly sight！ don’t you think so； jane？”
“it is a pity to see it； and a pity to see your eyes—and the scar of fire on your forehead： and the worst of it is； one is in danger of loving you too well for all this； and making too much of you。”
“i thought you would be revolted； jane； when you saw my arm； and my cicatrised visage。”
“did you？ don’t tell me so—lest i should say something disparaging to your judgment。 now； let me leave you an instant； to make a better fire； and have the hearth swept up。 can you tell when there is a good fire？”
“yes； with the right eye i see a glow—a ruddy haze。”
“and you see the candles？”
“very dimly—each is a luminous cloud。”
“can you see me？”
“no； my fairy： but i am only too thankful to hear and feel you。”
“when do you take supper？”
“i never take supper。”
“but you shall have some to…night。 i am hungry： so are you； i daresay； only you forget。”
summoning mary； i soon had the room in more cheerful order： i p