Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.

CHAPTER II

I resisted (to stand against) all the way: a new thing for me, and a circumstance (a surrounding fact or condition) which greatly (to a great degree) strengthened (to make stronger) the bad opinion Bessie (Bessie, the nursemaid at Gateshead, kind to Jane) and Miss Abbot (Miss Abbot, Mrs Reed's lady's-maid) were disposed (to arrange; to incline) to entertain (to amuse; to host) of me. The fact is, I was a trifle (a thing of no importance) beside (at the side of) myself; or rather out of myself, as the French would say: I was conscious (aware) that a moment’s mutiny (rebellion against command) had already rendered (to give; to make) me liable (answerable; likely) to strange penalties (a punishment), and, like any other rebel (one who rises against rule) slave (one owned by another), I felt resolved (to decide firmly), in my desperation (reckless hopelessness), to go all lengths.

“Hold her arms, Miss Abbot: she’s like a mad cat.”

“For shame! for shame!” cried the lady’s-maid. “What shocking (causing horror) conduct, Miss Eyre (Jane Eyre, the orphan governess who tells her own story), to strike a young gentleman (a man of good birth and manners), your benefactress (a woman who does one good)’s son! Your young master.”

“Master! How is he my master? Am I a servant (one who serves)?”

“No; you are less than a servant (one who serves), for you do nothing for your keep. There, sit down, and think over your wickedness (evil doing).”

They had got me by this time into the apartment indicated (to point out) by Mrs. Reed (Jane's aunt by marriage, mistress of Gateshead), and had thrust (to push hard) me upon a stool (a backless seat): my impulse (a sudden inner push) was to rise from it like a spring; their two pair of hands arrested me instantly (at once).

“If you don’t sit still, you must be tied down,” said Bessie. “Miss Abbot, lend (to give on loan) me your garters (a band to hold up a stocking; the Order of the Garter); she would break mine directly.”

Miss Abbot turned to divest (to strip of) a stout (fat and solid; brave) leg of the necessary ligature (a binding; a garter). This preparation (making ready) for bonds, and the additional ignominy (public shame) it inferred (to reason out from signs), took a little of the excitement (a stirring up) out of me.

“Don’t take them off,” I cried; “I will not stir (to move; to rouse).”

In guarantee (a binding promise) whereof (of which), I attached myself to my seat by my hands.

“Mind you don’t,” said Bessie; and when she had ascertained (to find out for certain) that I was really subsiding (to sink down; die away), she loosened (to make loose) her hold of me; then she and Miss Abbot stood with folded (to bend over on itself) arms, looking darkly (with a dark look) and doubtfully (with doubt) on my face, as incredulous (refusing to believe) of my sanity (soundness of mind).

“She never did so before,” at last said Bessie, turning to the Abigail.

“But it was always in her,” was the reply. “I’ve told Missis often my opinion about the child, and Missis agreed with me. She’s an underhand (sly and secret) little thing: I never saw a girl of her age with so much cover.”

Bessie answered not; but ere (before — an old word) long, addressing me, she said—

“You ought (should) to be aware, Miss, that you are under obligations (a binding duty) to Mrs. Reed: she keeps you: if she were to turn you off, you would have to go to the poorhouse (a charity house for the poor).”

I had nothing to say to these words: they were not new to me: my very first recollections (a memory) of existence included hints (a small suggestion) of the same kind. This reproach (to blame with sorrow) of my dependence (reliance on another) had become a vague (unclear; dim) sing-song (in a rising and falling chant) in my ear (the organ of hearing): very painful (full of pain) and crushing (to press to pieces), but only half intelligible (able to be understood). Miss Abbot joined in—

“And you ought (should) not to think yourself on an equality (being equal) with the Misses Reed (the Reeds of Gateshead: Jane's aunt and her children John, Eliza, and Georgiana) and Master Reed, because Missis kindly (kind; gently) allows you to be brought up with them. They will have a great deal of money, and you will have none: it is your place to be humble (lowly and modest), and to try to make yourself agreeable (pleasant) to them.”

“What we tell you is for your good,” added Bessie, in no harsh (rough and severe) voice, “you should try to be useful and pleasant (pleasing), then, perhaps, you would have a home here; but if you become passionate (full of burning feeling) and rude (ill-mannered), Missis will send you away, I am sure.”

“Besides,” said Miss Abbot, “God will punish (to make suffer for a fault) her: He might strike her dead in the midst (the middle) of her tantrums (tantrums: fits of temper), and then where would she go? Come, Bessie, we will leave her: I wouldn (would — wouldn't: would not)’t have her heart for anything. Say your prayers (words to God), Miss Eyre, when you are by yourself; for if you don’t repent (to sorrow for one's sins), something bad might be permitted (to allow) to come down the chimney (the smoke shaft of a house) and fetch (to go and bring) you away.”

They went, shutting the door, and locking it behind them.

The red-room (red-room: the grand cold bedroom where Mr Reed died) was a square chamber (a room), very seldom (rarely) slept in, I might say never, indeed, unless when a chance influx (a flowing in) of visitors (one who visits) at Gateshead Hall (the Reeds' house) rendered (to give; to make) it necessary to turn to account all the accommodation (lodging) it contained: yet it was one of the largest and stateliest (most stately) chambers (a room) in the mansion (a great house). A bed supported on massive pillars (an upright column) of mahogany (rich dark red-brown wood), hung with curtains (a hanging cloth screen) of deep red damask (fine woven table linen), stood out like a tabernacle (a dwelling place; the body as the soul's tent) in the centre; the two large windows, with their blinds always drawn down, were half shrouded (wrapped and hidden) in festoons (hung in loops and garlands) and falls of similar drapery (hanging cloth); the carpet (a woven floor covering) was red; the table at the foot of the bed was covered with a crimson (deep red) cloth (woven fabric); the walls were a soft fawn (a young deer; its shy softness) colour (what the eye sees as red, blue, and the rest) with a blush (to redden with shame) of pink in it; the wardrobe (one's stock of clothes), the toilet-table (a dressing table), the chairs were of darkly (with a dark look) polished (rubbed smooth and bright) old mahogany (rich dark red-brown wood). Out of these deep surrounding (lying around) shades (shadowed cool; a degree of color) rose high, and glared (a hard bright light; an angry stare) white, the piled-up (heaped) mattresses (the padded bed one lies on) and pillows (a head cushion) of the bed, spread with a snowy (white with snow) Marseilles counterpane (a bed cover). Scarcely (hardly) less prominent (standing out) was an ample (more than enough) cushioned (a soft pillow for sitting) easy-chair (a comfortable armchair) near the head of the bed, also white, with a footstool (a low stool for the feet) before it; and looking, as I thought, like a pale (light in color; whitish) throne (the ruler's seat).

This room was chill (a cold shiver), because it seldom (rarely) had a fire; it was silent (making no sound), because remote (far away) from the nursery (the children's room) and kitchen; solemn (gravely serious), because it was known to be so seldom (rarely) entered. The house-maid (a maid of the house) alone came here on Saturdays, to wipe (to rub clean) from the mirrors (the reflecting glass) and the furniture (the fittings of a house) a week’s quiet dust (fine dry earth): and Mrs. Reed herself, at far intervals (a space between), visited it to review the contents of a certain secret drawer (a sliding box in a table) in the wardrobe (one's stock of clothes), where were stored divers (one who dives) parchments (a writing sheet made of animal skin), her jewel-casket (a box for jewels), and a miniature (a tiny portrait; very small) of her deceased (dead) husband; and in those last words lies the secret of the red-room (red-room: the grand cold bedroom where Mr Reed died)—the spell (a magic charm; a short time) which kept it so lonely (alone and sad) in spite (ill will) of its grandeur (grand greatness).

Mr. Reed had been dead nine years: it was in this chamber (a room) he breathed (to draw air) his last; here he lay in state (state: ceremony; pomp — the old sense here); hence (from here; therefore) his coffin (the burial box) was borne by the undertaker (one who takes a task on)’s men; and, since that day, a sense of dreary (gloomy and dull) consecration (being set apart as sacred) had guarded it from frequent (happening often) intrusion (a pushing in unwanted).

My seat, to which Bessie and the bitter (sharp and harsh to taste or heart) Miss Abbot had left me riveted (a metal fastening pin), was a low ottoman (a cushioned backless seat) near the marble (fine white stone) chimney-piece (the frame round a fireplace); the bed rose before me; to my right hand there was the high, dark wardrobe (one's stock of clothes), with subdued (to bring under power), broken reflections (a thrown-back image; thought) varying (to change about) the gloss (a shine) of its panels; to my left were the muffled (wrapped so as to dull sound) windows; a great looking-glass (a mirror) between them repeated (to say or do again) the vacant (empty) majesty (royal greatness) of the bed and room. I was not quite sure whether they had locked the door; and when I dared (to have the courage) move, I got up and went to see. Alas (a cry of sorrow)! yes: no jail was ever more secure. Returning, I had to cross before the looking-glass (a mirror); my fascinated (held as by a spell) glance (a quick look) involuntarily (without willing it) explored (to search through unknown ground) the depth it revealed. All looked colder and darker in that visionary (a dreamer of visions) hollow (empty inside; a dip in the ground) than in reality: and the strange little figure there gazing (a long steady look) at me, with a white face and arms specking (a tiny spot) the gloom (heavy darkness of spirit), and glittering (to sparkle) eyes of fear moving where all else was still, had the effect of a real spirit: I thought it like one of the tiny phantoms (a ghost), half fairy (a small magical being), half imp (a little devil), Bessie’s evening stories represented as coming out of lone (alone), ferny (full of fern) dells (a small wooded hollow) in moors (wild open heath), and appearing before the eyes of belated (delayed; late) travellers (one who travels). I returned to my stool (a backless seat).

Superstition (belief in luck and omens) was with me at that moment; but it was not yet her hour for complete victory: my blood was still warm; the mood (a state of feeling) of the revolted (filled with loathing) slave (one owned by another) was still bracing (to steady; a supporting pair) me with its bitter (sharp and harsh to taste or heart) vigour (strength and force); I had to stem (a plant's stalk) a rapid (fast) rush (to move with violent haste) of retrospective (looking back) thought before I quailed (to shrink back in fear) to the dismal (gloomy and cheerless) present.

All John Reed (Jane's bullying cousin)’s violent (of raging force) tyrannies (cruel rule), all his sisters’ proud indifference (absence of care or interest), all his mother’s aversion (strong dislike), all the servants (one who serves)’ partiality (a fondness; one-sided liking), turned up in my disturbed (troubled) mind like a dark deposit (a layer laid down; to put down) in a turbid (clouded; muddy) well. Why was I always suffering, always browbeaten (bullied), always accused (to charge with wrongdoing), for ever condemned (to judge guilty)? Why could I never please? Why was it useless (of no use) to try to win any one’s favour (a kind act; to prefer)? Eliza, who was headstrong (bent on one's own way) and selfish (caring only for oneself), was respected. Georgiana, who had a spoiled (ruined; indulged) temper (one's disposition; anger), a very acrid (sharp and bitter to the nose) spite (ill will), a captious (fault-finding) and insolent (rudely bold) carriage (a wheeled passenger vehicle; bearing), was universally (by everyone) indulged (gave way to). Her beauty, her pink cheeks (the side of the face) and golden curls (a coiled lock of hair), seemed to give delight (great pleasure) to all who looked at her, and to purchase indemnity (security against loss) for every fault. John no one thwarted (thwarting: blocking), much less punished (to make suffer for a fault); though he twisted (to wind together) the necks of the pigeons (the gray town bird), killed the little pea-chicks (young peacocks), set the dogs at the sheep (the wool-bearing flock animal), stripped (to take off; a narrow band) the hothouse (a heated glasshouse for plants) vines (a climbing plant) of their fruit, and broke the buds (a leaf or flower not yet open) off the choicest plants in the conservatory (a glass room for plants): he called his mother “old girl,” too; sometimes reviled (to abuse in words) her for her dark skin, similar to his own; bluntly (plainly, without softening) disregarded (to pay no attention to) her wishes; not unfrequently (not unfrequently: often) tore (a drop of weeping; to rip) and spoiled (ruined; indulged) her silk (the fine soft thread of the East) attire (clothing); and he was still “her own darling (a dearly loved one).” I dared (to have the courage) commit (to do; to entrust) no fault: I strove (struggled toward) to fulfil (to carry out fully) every duty; and I was termed naughty (badly behaved) and tiresome (wearying), sullen (silently ill-tempered) and sneaking (mean and sly), from morning to noon (midday), and from noon (midday) to night.

My head still ached (a dull steady pain) and bled (to lose blood) with the blow and fall I had received: no one had reproved (to scold; correct) John for wantonly (recklessly, without cause) striking me; and because I had turned against him to avert (to turn away; ward off) farther irrational (against reason) violence, I was loaded with general opprobrium (disgrace and scorn).

“Unjust (not just)!—unjust (not just)!” said my reason, forced by the agonising (causing agony) stimulus (a spur to action) into precocious (developed early) though transitory (passing quickly) power: and Resolve, equally (in equal measure) wrought up, instigated (instigated: stirred up) some strange expedient (a device to serve the moment) to achieve escape from insupportable (unbearable) oppression (crushing rule)—as running away, or, if that could not be effected, never eating or drinking more, and letting myself die.

What a consternation (shocked dismay) of soul was mine that dreary (gloomy and dull) afternoon! How all my brain was in tumult (wild noisy uproar), and all my heart in insurrection (an armed uprising)! Yet in what darkness (absence of light), what dense (thickly packed) ignorance (want of knowledge), was the mental battle fought! I could not answer the ceaseless (never stopping) inward (toward the inside) question—why I thus suffered; now, at the distance of—I will not say how many years, I see it clearly.

I was a discord (clashing disagreement) in Gateshead Hall: I was like nobody there; I had nothing in harmony (agreeing sweetness) with Mrs. Reed or her children, or her chosen vassalage (servitude). If they did not love me, in fact, as little did I love them. They were not bound (to tie fast) to regard (to look upon; respect) with affection (warm love) a thing that could not sympathise (sympathised: felt with another) with one amongst (among) them; a heterogeneous (of mixed kinds) thing, opposed to them in temperament (one's natural temper), in capacity, in propensities (a natural leaning); a useless (of no use) thing, incapable (unable) of serving their interest (interest: the spectacle that draws a crowd — the old sense here), or adding to their pleasure; a noxious (harmful; poisonous) thing, cherishing (to hold dear) the germs (a first seed of life) of indignation (anger at unfairness) at their treatment, of contempt (scorn for the worthless) of their judgment (the power of judging; a decision). I know that had I been a sanguine (hopeful and warm-blooded), brilliant, careless (without care), exacting (demanding much), handsome (fine-looking), romping (a boisterous girl) child—though equally (in equal measure) dependent (resting upon) and friendless (without friends)—Mrs. Reed would have endured (to bear; to last) my presence more complacently (with self-satisfaction); her children would have entertained (to amuse; to host) for me more of the cordiality (warm friendliness) of fellow-feeling (sympathy); the servants (one who serves) would have been less prone (lying flat; inclined to) to make me the scapegoat (one who bears others' blame) of the nursery (the children's room).

Daylight (the light of day) began to forsake (to abandon) the red-room (red-room: the grand cold bedroom where Mr Reed died); it was past four o’clock (the time-keeping machine), and the beclouded (clouded over) afternoon was tending to drear (dreary) twilight (the half light of evening). I heard the rain still beating continuously (without a break) on the staircase (a flight of stairs) window, and the wind howling (to cry long like a wolf) in the grove (a small wood) behind the hall; I grew by degrees cold as a stone, and then my courage (bravery) sank (to go down). My habitual (usual by habit) mood (a state of feeling) of humiliation (crushing shame), self-doubt (doubt of oneself), forlorn (hopeless and sad) depression, fell damp (slightly wet) on the embers (a glowing coal) of my decaying (rotting) ire (anger). All said I was wicked (evil), and perhaps I might be so; what thought had I been but just conceiving (to form in the mind) of starving (to die of hunger) myself to death? That certainly was a crime: and was I fit to die? Or was the vault (an arched chamber; to leap) under the chancel (the altar end of a church) of Gateshead (Gateshead Hall, the Reeds' house where Jane grows up) Church an inviting (tempting) bourne (a goal; a resting place)? In such vault (an arched chamber; to leap) I had been told did Mr. Reed lie buried (to lay in the earth); and led by this thought to recall (to call back to mind) his idea, I dwelt (lived; stayed) on it with gathering (to bring together) dread (deep fear). I could not remember him; but I knew that he was my own uncle (a parent's brother)—my mother’s brother—that he had taken me when a parentless (without parents) infant (a baby) to his house; and that in his last moments he had required a promise of Mrs. Reed that she would rear (the back part; to bring up) and maintain me as one of her own children. Mrs. Reed probably considered she had kept this promise; and so she had, I dare (to have the courage) say, as well as her nature would permit (to allow) her; but how could she really like an interloper (one who pushes in where he does not belong) not of her race, and unconnected (without connection) with her, after her husband’s death, by any tie? It must have been most irksome (tiresome; annoying) to find herself bound (to tie fast) by a hard-wrung (wrung with difficulty) pledge (a solemn promise) to stand in the stead (in one's stead: in one's place) of a parent to a strange child she could not love, and to see an uncongenial (unsuited to one's nature) alien (foreign; strange) permanently (for good) intruded (to push in unwanted) on her own family group.

A singular (strange; one of a kind) notion (an idea) dawned (the day's first light) upon me. I doubted not—never doubted—that if Mr. Reed had been alive he would have treated me kindly (kind; gently); and now, as I sat looking at the white bed and overshadowed (darkened by shadow) walls—occasionally (now and then) also turning a fascinated (held as by a spell) eye towards the dimly (faintly) gleaming (a flash of light) mirror (the reflecting glass)—I began to recall (to call back to mind) what I had heard of dead men, troubled in their graves (count — German title) by the violation (a breaking of law) of their last wishes, revisiting (to visit again) the earth to punish (to make suffer for a fault) the perjured (false to an oath) and avenge (to take revenge for) the oppressed (crushed under power); and I thought Mr. Reed’s spirit, harassed (harassed: worried by repeated attacks) by the wrongs of his sister’s child, might quit its abode (a home; dwelling place)—whether in the church vault (an arched chamber; to leap) or in the unknown world of the departed (to go away)—and rise before me in this chamber (a room). I wiped (to rub clean) my tears (a drop of weeping; to rip) and hushed (to quiet; silence) my sobs (to weep in catching breaths), fearful (full of fear; dreadful) lest (for fear that) any sign of violent (of raging force) grief (deep sorrow) might waken (to wake) a preternatural (beyond nature) voice to comfort (ease; to console) me, or elicit (to draw out) from the gloom (heavy darkness of spirit) some haloed (ringed with light) face, bending (to curve; to bow) over me with strange pity (sorrow for another's pain). This idea, consolatory (comforting) in theory, I felt would be terrible if realised (to come to understand; to make real): with all my might I endeavoured (to try hard) to stifle (to choke down; smother) it—I endeavoured (to try hard) to be firm. Shaking (to move to and fro) my hair from my eyes, I lifted my head and tried to look boldly (with bold courage) round the dark room; at this moment a light gleamed (a flash of light) on the wall. Was it, I asked myself, a ray from the moon penetrating (to pierce into) some aperture (an opening) in the blind? No; moonlight (the light of the moon) was still, and this stirred (to move; to rouse); while I gazed (a long steady look), it glided (to move smoothly) up to the ceiling (the room's overhead surface) and quivered (to tremble finely) over my head. I can now conjecture (a guess) readily (willingly; easily) that this streak (a long thin mark) of light was, in all likelihood (probability), a gleam (a flash of light) from a lantern (a cased light) carried by some one across the lawn (a stretch of cut grass): but then, prepared as my mind was for horror (shaking fear and disgust), shaken (to move to and fro) as my nerves (the body's feeling thread; courage) were by agitation (troubled excitement), I thought the swift (fast) darting (to shoot swiftly) beam (a great timber; a ray of light; to smile brightly) was a herald (a forerunner; a messenger) of some coming vision from another world. My heart beat thick (of great depth through; dense), my head grew hot; a sound filled my ears (the organ of hearing), which I deemed (to judge; consider) the rushing (moving with violent haste) of wings; something seemed near me; I was oppressed (crushed under power), suffocated (smothered): endurance (power to bear long) broke down; I rushed (to move with violent haste) to the door and shook (to move to and fro) the lock in desperate (without hope; reckless) effort. Steps came running along the outer (on the outside) passage (passage: a sea-journey — the old sense here); the key turned, Bessie and Abbot entered.

“Miss Eyre, are you ill?” said Bessie.

“What a dreadful (filling with dread) noise! it went quite through me!” exclaimed (to cry out) Abbot.

“Take me out! Let me go into the nursery (the children's room)!” was my cry.

“What for? Are you hurt? Have you seen something?” again demanded Bessie.

“Oh! I saw a light, and I thought a ghost (a spirit of the dead) would come.” I had now got hold of Bessie’s hand, and she did not snatch (to grab quickly) it from me.

“She has screamed (a piercing cry) out on purpose,” declared Abbot, in some disgust (sick, strong dislike). “And what a scream (a piercing cry)! If she had been in great pain one would have excused it, but she only wanted to bring us all here: I know her naughty (badly behaved) tricks (a deceiving act).”

“What is all this?” demanded another voice peremptorily (in a tone allowing no refusal); and Mrs. Reed came along the corridor (a passage), her cap flying wide, her gown (a woman's long dress) rustling (a soft dry whispering sound) stormily (in a storm of feeling). “Abbot and Bessie, I believe I gave orders that Jane Eyre (the orphan governess who tells her own story) should be left in the red-room (red-room: the grand cold bedroom where Mr Reed died) till I came to her myself.”

“Miss Jane screamed (a piercing cry) so loud, ma’am,” pleaded (to beg earnestly) Bessie.

“Let her go,” was the only answer. “Loose (not tight; free) Bessie’s hand, child: you cannot succeed (to follow; to prosper) in getting out by these means, be assured (to promise; make sure). I abhor (to hate deeply) artifice (a cunning trick), particularly in children; it is my duty to show you that tricks (a deceiving act) will not answer: you will now stay here an hour longer, and it is only on condition (condition: social rank — the old sense here) of perfect submission (yielding under) and stillness (quiet; no movement) that I shall liberate (to set free) you then.”

“O aunt (a parent's sister)! have pity (sorrow for another's pain)! Forgive (to pardon) me! I cannot endure (to bear; to last) it—let me be punished (to make suffer for a fault) some other way! I shall be killed if—”

“Silence! This violence is all most repulsive (disgusting):” and so, no doubt, she felt it. I was a precocious (developed early) actress (a woman player on the stage) in her eyes; she sincerely (with true heart) looked on me as a compound (to mix together; made of parts) of virulent (poisonously bitter) passions (burning feeling), mean spirit, and dangerous duplicity (double-dealing; deceit).

Bessie and Abbot having retreated (to draw back), Mrs. Reed, impatient (restlessly eager) of my now frantic (wild with fear or haste) anguish (crushing sorrow) and wild sobs (to weep in catching breaths), abruptly (suddenly and shortly) thrust (to push hard) me back and locked me in, without farther parley (a talk between enemies). I heard her sweeping (wide and sideways) away; and soon after she was gone, I suppose I had a species of fit: unconsciousness (loss of the senses) closed the scene.