ts”　placed　for　my　convenience；　expecting　to　hear　my　name　pronounced；　and　to　see　some　description　of　carriage　waiting　to　convey　me　to　Thornfield。　Nothing　of　the　sort　was　visible；　and　when　I　asked　a　waiter　if　any　one　had　been　to　inquire　after　a　Miss　Eyre；　I　was　answered　in　the　negative：　so　I　had　no　resource　but　to　request　to　be　shown　into　a　private　room：　and　here　I　am　waiting；　while　all　sorts　of　doubts　and　fears　are　troubling　my　thoughts。

It　is　a　very　strange　sensation　to　inexperienced　youth　to　feel　itself　quite　alone　in　the　world；　cut　adrift　from　every　connection；　uncertain　whether　the　port　to　which　it　is　bound　can　be　reached；　and　prevented　by　many　impediments　from　returning　to　that　it　has　quitted。　The　charm　of　adventure　sweetens　that　sensation；　the　glow　of　pride　warms　it；　but　then　the　throb　of　fear　disturbs　it；　and　fear　with　me　became　predominant　when　half…an…hour　elapsed　and　still　I　was　alone。　I　bethought　myself　to　ring　the　bell。

“Is　there　a　place　in　this　neighbourhood　called　Thornfield？”　I　asked　of　the　waiter　who　answered　the　summons。

“Thornfield？　I　don’t　know；　ma’am；　I’ll　inquire　at　the　bar。”　He　vanished；　but　reappeared　instantly—

“Is　your　name　Eyre；　Miss？”

“Yes。”

“Person　here　waiting　for　you。”

I　jumped　up；　took　my　muff　and　umbrella；　and　hastened　into　the　inn…　passage：　a　man　was　standing　by　the　open　door；　and　in　the　lamp…lit　street　I　dimly　saw　a　one…horse　conveyance。

“This　will　be　your　luggage；　I　suppose？”　said　the　ma