CHAPTER XVII
"You'll like to see the stables and all that?" said Mr. John Rochester. And they agreed, but without eagerness. Stables and cottages, once so gladly welcomed, now seemed only additional responsibilities. It was not till they had passed through the double gate in the wall—the gate which they had believed to open on to the road—and seen the stable-yard surrounded by stables and outbuildings, and the two cottages beyond—quite pretty cottages standing in neglected gardens—that Jane was roused to a faint enthusiasm.
"I do like this," she said; "look how lovely the May-bushes are, and that single rose over the door just coming out, and the vine all over the side! And the grass and the interesting little weeds coming up among the cobble-stones in the stable-yard! Do you think there's any furniture in the cottages, Mr. Rochester?"
There was; and it was rather attractive furniture—plain deal and elm in the kitchen and mahogany in the best parlour—not the gimcrack plush and machine-carved walnut made-to-sell that has ousted the old strong, solid wood and horse-hair cloth.
"Made to last, you see," Mr. Rochester exerted himself to point out; "all fitted together like Chinese puzzles—no nails, only wooden pegs and screws."
"How is it," Lucilla wondered, also exerting herself to converse, "that old furniture is so nice and new furniture's so nasty."
"I suppose because the new furniture is made to sell. Designs that can be made by the thousand, held together
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