All at once I heard a clear voice call, Miss Jane! where are you? Come to lunch!
It was Bessie, I knew well enough; but I did not stir; her light step came tripping down the path.
You naughty little thing! she said. Why dont you come when you are called?
Bessies presence, compared with the thoughts over which I had been brooding, seemed cheerful; even though, as usual, she was somewhat cross. The fact is, after my conflict with and victory over Mrs. Reed, I was not disposed to care much for the nursemaids transitory anger; and I was disposed to bask in her youthful lightness of heart. I just put my two arms round her and said, Come, Bessie! dont scold.
The action was more frank and fearless than any I was habituated to indulge in: somehow it pleased her.
You are a strange child, Miss Jane, she said, as she looked down at me; a little roving, solitary thing: and you are going to school, I suppose?
I nodded.
And wont you be sorry to leave poor
Bessie?
What does Bessie care for me? She is always scolding me.
Because youre such a queer, frightened, shy little thing. You should be bolder.
What! to get more knocks?
Nonsense! But you are rather put upon, thats certain. My mother said, when she came to see me last week, that she would not like a little one of her own to be in your place. Now, come in, and Ive some good news for you.
I dont think you have, Bessie.
Child! what do you mean? What sorrowful eyes you fix on me! Well, but Missis and the young ladies and Master John are going out to tea this afternoon, and you shall have tea with me. Ill ask cook to bake you a little cake, and then you shall help me to look over your drawers; for I am soon to pack your trunk. Missis intends you to leave Gateshead in a day or two, and you shall choose what toys you like to take with you.
Bessie, you must promise not to scold me any more till I go.
Well, I will; but mind you are a very good girl, and dont be afraid of me. Dont start when I chance to speak rather sharply; its so provoking.
I dont think I shall ever be afraid of you again, Bessie, because I have got used to you, and I shall soon have another set of people to dread.
If you dread them theyll dislike you.
As you do, Bessie?
I dont dislike you, Miss; I believe I am fonder of you than of all the others.
You dont show it.
You little sharp thing! youve got quite a new way of talking. What makes you so venturesome and hardy?
Why, I shall soon be away from you, and besides I was going to say something about what had passed between me and Mrs. Reed, but on second thoughts I considered it better to remain silent on that head.
And so youre glad to leave me?
Not at all, Bessie; indeed, just now Im rather sorry.
Just now! and rather! How coolly my little lady says it! I dare say now if I were to ask you for a kiss you wouldnt give it me: youd say youd rather not.
Ill kiss you and welcome: bend your head down. Bessie stooped; we mutually embraced, and I followed her into the house quite comforted. That afternoon lapsed in peace and harmony; and in the evening Bessie told me some of her most enchanting stories, and sang me some of her sweetest songs. Even for me life had its gleams of sunshine.
Chapter V
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! dont say so!
Good-bye to Gateshead! cried I, as we passed through the hall and went out at the front door.
The moon was set, and it was very dark; Bessie carried a lantern, whose light glanced on wet steps and gravel road sodden by a recent thaw. Raw and chill was the winter morning: my teeth chattered as I hastened down the drive. There was a light in the porters lodge: when we reached it, we found the porters wife just kindling her fire: my trunk, which had been carried down the evening before, stood corded at the door. It wanted but a few minutes of six, and shortly after that hour had struck, the distant roll of wheels announced the
coming coach; I went to the door and watched its lamps approach rapidly through the gloom.
Is she going by herself? asked the porters wife.
Yes.
And how far is it?
Fifty miles.
What a long way! I wonder Mrs. Reed is not afraid to trust her so far alone.
The coach drew up; there it was at the gates with its four horses and its top laden with passengers: the guard and coachman loudly urged haste; my trunk was hoisted up; I was taken from Bessies neck, to which I clung with kisses.
Be sure and take good care of her, cried she to the guard, as he lifted me into the inside.
Ay, ay! was the answer: the door was slapped to, a voice exclaimed All right, and on we drove. Thus was I severed from Bessie and Gateshead; thus whirled away to unknown, and, as I then deemed, remote and mysterious regions.