his ankle is sprained."

The next day I was summoned to take tea with Mr. Rochester and my pupil.
When I entered he was looking at Adela, who knelt on the hearth beside
Pilot.

"Here is Miss Eyre, sir," said Mrs. Fairfax, in her quiet way.

Mr. Rochester bowed, still not taking his eyes from the group of the dog
and the child.

I sat down, disembarrassed. Politeness might have confused me; caprice
laid me under no obligation.

Mrs. Fairfax seemed to think someone should be amiable, and she began to
talk.

"Madam, I should like some tea," was the sole rejoinder she got.

"Come to the fire," said the master, when the tray was taken away. "When
you came on me in Hay lane last night I thought unaccountably of fairy
tales, and had half a mind to demand whether you had bewitched my horse.
I am not sure yet. Who are your parents?"

"I have none."

"I thought not. And so you were waiting for your people when you sat on
that stile?"

"For whom, sir?"