I Could Not Unlove Him Now, Merely

Strange That Grief Should Now Almost Choke Me, Because Another Human Being's Eye Has Failed To Greet Mine.

Because When She Failed, I Saw How She Might Have Succeeded. Arrows That Continually Glanced Off From Mr. Rochester's Breast And Fell Harmless At His Feet, Might, I Knew, If Shot By A Surer Hand, Have Quivered Keen In His Proud Heart - Have Called Love Into His Stern Eye, And Softness Into His Sardonic Face, Or Better Still, Without Weapons A Silent Conquest Might Have Been Won.

I Remembered That The Real World Was Wide, And That A Varied Field Of Hopes And Fears, Of Sensations And Excitments, Awaited Those Who Had The Courage To Go Forth Into It's Expanse, To Seek Real Knowledge Of Life Amidst It's Perils.

That A Greater Fool Than Jane Eyre Had Never Breathed The Breath Of Life; That A More Fantastic Idiot Had Never Surfeited Herself On Sweet Lies, And Swallowed Poison As If It Were Nectar.

You Know Full Well As I Do The Value Of Sisters' Affections: There Is Nothing Like It In This World.