"I didn't know," said Mr. Rochester, "but I don't think you need bother about that. He's changed his mind."
The girls looked at each other in dumb horror. Mr. Rochester was getting some keys out of his pocket, and did not see their faces. The keys of the stable, no doubt. But what did stable or cottages or tennis-lawn matter if their landlord changed his mind? Somehow they had never thought of his doing that.
Jane was the first to find words.
"He doesn't want us to go on with the garden and the garden room? He doesn't want us to go on as we are?"
"No," answered John Rochester absently, and still busy with the keys. "He doesn't want you to go on as you are. You see, he's decided not to keep the house empty any longer."
An end, then, to everything!
I think it is to the credit of my Jane and Lucilla that the first thought of each as they caught breath under the assault of this wave of misfortune was:
"And we've just engaged a gardener! Oh, poor Mr. Dix!"
