Original Chapter 7——

I have not yet mentioned the visit of Mr. Brocklehurst, who actually spent most of the first month after my arrival. During these days, he was not at home. Perhaps he spent more time with his friend the Archdeacon. I was relieved that he was not here. Needless to say, I had my own reasons to be afraid of his coming, but he came anyway.

One afternoon (I had been at Lowood three weeks by then), I sat with a writing board in my hand, staring blankly at a sum in long division. Outside the window, I saw a figure flashing past. I recognized the thin silhouette almost instinctively. So two minutes later, when the entire school, including the teachers, stood up, I didn't have to raise my head to see who they were welcoming into the room. The man strode into the classroom. In the blink of an eye, beside Miss Temple, who had already risen, there stood the same great black pillar which had frowned ominously upon me from the hearth-rug at Gateshead. At this time I glanced sideways at the building. Yes, I read that right, that's Mr. Brocklehurst, wearing a long, tight-fitting coat, buttoned up, making him look even more slender, narrow, and rigid.

I have reason to feel depressed when I see this ghost. I well remember Mrs. Reed's malicious insinuations about my character, etc., and Mr. Brocklehurst's promise to inform Miss Temple and the teachers of my bad nature. I have always feared that this promise would be fulfilled - every day I was on guard against this "coming man." His conversations and revelations about my past would make me known as a bad boy for the rest of my life, and now he was finally here. He stood beside Miss Temple and whispered to her. There was no doubt that he was speaking ill of me, and I watched her gaze eagerly and painfully, expecting all the time that her dark eyes would turn to me with a look of disgust and contempt. I also listened carefully, because I happened to be sitting at the top of the house, so I could hear most of what he said. The content of the conversation removed my immediate worries.

"Miss Temple, I think the thread I bought at Lorton is useful and the texture is just right for making white shirts. I also selected a needle to match it. Please tell Miss Smith that I forgot But I will send some paper to each student next week. If you give too many, they will be careless and lose them. The woolen socks can be taken care of better! Last time I came here, I walked around in the vegetable garden and took a closer look at the clothes hanging on the line. I saw that there were many black stockings that needed to be mended, from the ones with holes in them. Judging from the size, it must have been repaired every time."

He paused.

"Your instructions will be carried out, sir," said Miss Temple.

"I think I can explain the matter, sir. On Thursday last, Agnes and Catherine Johnstone went up to Loughton for tea at the invitation of friends, and I allowed them to wear Clean collar."

Mr. Brocklehurst nodded.

"Okay, forget it this time, but please don't let this happen often. There is another thing that surprised me. I checked out with the housekeeper and found that in the last two weeks, two The girls were served snacks and had bread and cheese. What happened? I checked the regulations and found no mention of snacks or other meals. Who initiated the reform? "

"I must take responsibility for the situation, sir," replied Miss Temple. "The breakfast was so badly cooked that the students couldn't even swallow it. I didn't dare let them stay hungry until lunch.

"

"Miss, please allow me to speak for a moment - you should know that I am not training these girls to develop the habit of luxury and indulgence, but to make them hard-working and patient. Be strict in self-denial. If something unpalatable happens to you occasionally, such as a meal being burnt or a dish with too little or too much ingredients, you should not replace the lost enjoyment with something more delicious to make up for it. That would only pamper the body and deviate from the purpose of this school. This incident should be used to enlighten students spiritually and encourage them to develop perseverance under temporary difficult circumstances. On this occasion, it is timely to make a brief speech. A wise teacher would seize the opportunity to speak of the sufferings of the early Christians; of the tortures endured by the martyrs; of the exhortations of our holy Christ Himself, calling the Apostles to take up their cross and follow Him; Let’s talk about the warning he gave: Man does not live by food alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God; talk about his divine comfort: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” 'Ah, Miss, when you put bread and cheese into the mouths of children instead of burnt porridge, you may be feeding them evil flesh, without thinking that you are making them immortal. The soul is starving!

Mr. Brocklehurst paused again, perhaps because he was too impulsive. When he began to speak, Miss Temple had lowered her head, but now her eyes were looking straight ahead. . Her face, which is as white as marble, seems to reveal the indifference and firmness unique to marble, especially her mouth, which is tightly closed, as if it can only be opened with a sculptor's chisel, and her eyebrows are gradually covered. At the same time, Mr. Brocklehurst stood in front of the stove with his hands behind his back, looking at the whole school majestically.

As if he had hit something dazzling, he turned around and said in a more urgent tone than before:

"Miss Temple, Miss Temple, um, what's going on with that curly-haired girl?" Red hair, miss, how come you have it curled and your hair is full of curls? " He pointed his whip at the terrible thing, his hand shaking.

"That's Julia Severn," answered Miss Temple calmly.

"Julia ·Severn, miss! Why did she, or anyone else, get a perm? She actually ignored the school's precepts and principles in our evangelical charity, openly kitsch, and had her hair permed. Why? "

"Julia's hair is naturally curly," Miss Temple replied more calmly.

"Natural! Yes, but we cannot accommodate our nature. I hope these girls are children blessed by God. Besides, why do they need so much hair? I have repeatedly stated that I would like my hair to be short, plain, and simple. Miss Temple, that girl's hair must be cut off. I'll send for a barber tomorrow. I saw too much of that encumbrance on someone else's head - the tall girl, and told her to turn around. Ask all the first class to stand up, turn their faces to the wall and stand. "

Miss Temple wiped her lips with her handkerchief, as if to wipe away the uncontrollable smile on her lips. But she still gave the order. After the first class of students understood what was required of them, they all obeyed I sat on the bench and leaned back slightly, so I could see everyone winking and making various expressions of dissatisfaction with this arrangement. It was a pity that Mr. Brocklehurst could not see it otherwise. He may feel that even though he can control the appearance of the cup and plate, the inside is far from what he thought.

He looked at the backs of these living medals carefully. After about five minutes, the verdict was announced, and his words rang out like a death knell:

“The topknot must be cut off. "

Miss Temple seemed to be protesting.

"Miss," he continued, "I want to serve the Lord, and His kingdom is not this world. My mission was to moderate the sensual desires of these girls and teach them to dress modestly and modestly, not to braid their hair or wear expensive clothes.

And every young man before us had his hair braided out of vanity. I repeat, these hairs must be cut, think of the time wasted, think..."

Here Mr. Brocklehurst was interrupted. Three other visitors came The men, both women, entered the room now. It would have been better if they had arrived earlier, in time to listen to his lecture on dress, the two younger ones in velvet, satin and fur. A beautiful girl of sixteen or seventeen years old) wearing a gray otter skin hat that was very fashionable at the time, with ostrich feathers on it. Under the edge of the elegant headdress, there was a mass of thick curly hair, which was very delicately permed. Some women were wrapped in a precious velvet shawl decorated with mink fur, and had French-style fake curls on their foreheads.

One of these ladies was Mrs. Brocklehurst. , and two Misses Brocklehurst. They were received respectfully by Miss Temple, and conducted to a seat at the end of the room. They appeared to have arrived in the same carriage as their clerical relatives. While he was doing business with the housekeeper, questioning the washermaid, and lecturing the principal, they had already looked carefully in the room upstairs. At this time, they put forward various opinions and criticisms to Miss Smith, who was responsible for taking care of the clothes and quilts and checking the dormitory. I had no time to listen to what they said; other things interrupted and occupied my attention.

Up to now I was absorbing what Mr. Brocklehurst and Miss Temple were saying. While speaking, I did not relax my guard to ensure my own safety. As long as I was not seen, safety was no problem. In order to achieve this goal, I sat on the bench and leaned back, looking like I was busy calculating. I held the writing board just enough to cover my face. I could have avoided others' attention, but unexpectedly, my troublesome writing board slipped out of my hand and fell to the ground with a bang. Everyone looked at me. I knew it was all over. I bent down and picked up the broken writing board, and gathered up my courage to face the worst ending.

"What a careless girl! "Mr. Brocklehurst said, and then immediately added, "It's a new student, I can tell." Before I could catch my breath, he continued, "Don't forget, there is a saying. Something to say about her," and then in a loud voice. How loud it sounded to my ears! "Let the kid who broke the clipboard come to the front! ”

I couldn’t move anymore, and I collapsed. But the two older girls sitting on both sides of me helped me stand up and pushed me towards the terrible judge. Then frankly Miss Poole gently helped me to his feet, and I heard her whisper to persuade me:

"Don't be afraid, Jane, I know this was not intentional, and you will not be punished.

This kind whisper pierced my heart like a dagger.

“In another minute, she will look down on me as a hypocrite,” I thought. The thought sparked a rage in my heart, directed at Mrs. Reed and the Brocklehurst gang, I am not Helen Burns.

"Get that stool. Come," said Mr. Brocklehurst, pointing to a very tall stool from which a monitor had just stood up. The stool was brought.

"Put the boy on it. ”

I was carried to the stool. I didn’t know who carried it. It was impossible for me to pay attention to the details. I only knew that they put me in the same position as Mr. Brocklehurst. As high as my nose; knowing that he was only a yard away from me; knowing that beneath me, a coat of orange and purple shiny satin-trimmed leather and thick mist-like silver feathers spread and fluttered.

Mr. Brocklehurst cleared his throat

"Ladies," he said, turning to his family, "Miss Temple, teachers and children, you have seen this woman. Is it a child? "

Of course they saw it. I felt their eyes were aimed at my burning skin like convex lenses.

"You see, she is still very young.

As you can see, her appearance is no different from that of ordinary children. God graciously gave her the same appearance that he gave to us all. There is no obvious disability to indicate that she is a special person. Who would have thought that the devil had found in her a slave and agent? And I am sad to say that this is the truth. "

He paused again. During this interval, I began to calm down my nervous nerves, and felt that the Rubicon River had been crossed. Since the trial was unavoidable, I had to bite the bullet. Go and endure it.

“My dear children,” continued the black marble priest sadly, “this is a sad and melancholy occasion, for it is my duty to warn. You all, this girl who could have been God's own Lamb is a little outcast, not a true member of the flock, but clearly an interloper, an alien. You must beware of her and do not imitate her. If necessary, avoid her company, play games with her, or talk to her. Teachers, you must watch her, pay attention to her whereabouts, weigh her words, monitor her actions, punish her body to save her soul, if it is possible to save her, because (I really can’t say it), this Girl, this child, a native of the Christian land, is worse than many little pagans who pray to Brahma and kneel to the idol of Krishna. This girl is a - liar! "

At this time, a ten-minute pause began. At this time, I had calmed down and saw that the three women of the Brocklehurst family took out their handkerchiefs and wiped their glasses. The older one rocked back and forth, and the younger two whispered, "How terrible! "

Mr. Brocklehurst continued.

"I know it from her benefactor, an honest and charitable lady. When she became an orphan, it was this lady who adopted her and raised her as her biological daughter. The unfortunate girl repaid her kindness and generosity with ingratitude. This behavior was so bad, so terrible, that the excellent benefactor was finally forced to separate her from his young children, lest her bad appearance should stain their purity. She was sent here to be cured, just as the Jews of old sent their sick to the churning waters of Bethesda. Teachers, principals, I ask you not to let her become a stagnant pool of water. ”

After saying such a wonderful conclusion, Mr. Brocklehurst adjusted the top button of his long coat and murmured a few words to his family members. The latter stood up and said to Miss Temple bowed, and then all the dignitaries walked out of the room, and as they turned the corner at the door, my judge said:

"Let her stand still on that stool. hours and don't talk to her for the rest of the day. ”

So I stood tall like this. I once said that I could not bear the shame of standing with my feet in the middle of the room, but now I am standing on the platform of shame. My feelings It's beyond words. But just as we all stood up, making my breath hard and my throat tightening, a girl came up and passed me. She raised her eyes with such a strange look. What an extraordinary feeling that light filled me with! What a support this new feeling gave me! It was like a martyr, a hero passing by a slave or a victim. Passing on the strength to him, I controlled the hysteria that was about to break out, raised my head, and stood firmly on the stool. Helen Burns asked Miss Smith a small question about her homework, because the question was trivial. After being reprimanded, she walked past me again and smiled at me. I still remember it and know that it was an expression of wisdom and true courage. It was like an angel. The same reflection on her face illuminated her characteristic features, her thin face and deep-set gray eyes. Yet at that moment, Helen Burns was still wearing the "Untidy Mark" on her arm; less than a month later. A little while ago I heard Miss Scatcherd punish her to have only bread and water for lunch tomorrow because she soiled her exercise book while copying out the exercises.

Human nature is so imperfect! Even the brightest planets have such dark spots, and eyes like Miss Scatchard's could see only subtle imperfections but were blind to the star's immense brilliance.