and on this hill-top. Where did you see Latmos?—for that is Latmos. There,—put the drawings away!"
I had scarce tied the strings of the portfolio, when, looking at his watch, he said abruptly—
"It is nine o'clock: what are you about, Miss Eyre, to let Adèle sit up so long? Take her to bed."
Adèle went to kiss him before quitting the room: he endured the caress, but scarcely seemed to relish it more than Pilot would have done, nor so much.
"I wish you all good-night, now," said he, making a movement of the hand towards the door, in token that he was tired of our company, and wished to dismiss us. Mrs. Fairfax folded up her knitting: I took my portfolio: we curtseyed to him, received a frigid bow in return, and so withdrew.
"You said Mr. Rochester was not strikingly peculiar, Mrs. Fairfax," I observed, when I rejoined her in her room, after putting Adèle to bed.
"Well, is he?"
