I was growing truly irritated: happily, Ad�le ran in.

“Let me go, — let me go to Millcote too!” she cried. “Mr. Rochester won’t: though there is so much room in the new carriage. Beg him to let me go mademoiselle.”

“That I will, Ad�le;” and I hastened away with her, glad to quit my gloomy monitress. The carriage was ready: they were bringing it round to the front, and my master was pacing the pavement, Pilot following him backwards and forwards.

“Ad�le may accompany us, may she not, sir?”

“I told her no. I’ll have no brats! — I’ll have only you.”

“Do let her go, Mr. Rochester, if you please: it would be better.”