ntothefence.Hereonecouldwanderunseen.Whilesuey-dewfell,suchsilencereigned,suinggathered,IfeltasifIcouldhauntsuchshadeforever;butinthreadingtheflowerandfruitparterresattheupperpartoftheenclosure,eherebythelightthenowrisingmooncastonthismoreopenquarter,mystepisstayed—notbysound,notbysight,butoncemorebyawarningfragrance.

    Sweet-briarandsouthernwood,jasmine,pink,androsehavelongbeenyieldingtheireveningsacrificeofinse:thisnewstisherofshrubnorflower;itis—Iknowitwell—itisMr.Rochester’scigar.IlookroundandIlistereesladenwithripeningfruit.Ihearanightingalewarblinginawoodhalfamileoff;nomovingformisvisible,noingstepaudible;butthatperfumeincreases:Imustflee.Imakeforthewicketleadingtotheshrubbery,andIseeMr.Rochesterentering.Istepasideintotheivyrecess;hewillnotstaylong:hewillsoournwhencehecame,andifIsitstillhewillneverseeme.

    Butideisaspleasanttohimastome,andthisantiquegardenasattractive;arollson,nowliftingthegooseberry-treebraolookatthefruit,largeasplums,withwhichtheyareladen;nowtakingaripecherryfromthewall;nowstoopingtowardsaknotofflowers,eithertoiheirfragraoadmirethedew-beadsontheirpetals.Agreatmothgoeshummingbyme;italightsonaplantatMr.Rochester’sfoot:heseesit,aoexami.

    “Now,hehashisbacktowardsme,”thoughtI,“andheisoccupiedtoo;perhaps,ifIwalksoftly,Islipawayunnoticed.”

    Itrodeonanedgingofturfthatthecrackleofthepebblygravelmightrayme:hewasstandingamongthebedsatayardortwodistantfromwhereIhadtopass;themothapparentlyengagedhim.“Ishallgetbyverywell,”Imeditated.AsIcrossed