seemed floated away to an immeasurable distance; the present was vague and strange, and of the future I could form no conjecture. I looked round the convent-like garden, and then up at the house — a large building, half of which seemed grey and old, the other half quite new. The new part, containing the schoolroom and dormitory, was lit by mullioned and latticed windows, which gave it a church-like aspect; a stone tablet over the door bore this inscription: —

“Lowood Institution. — This portion was rebuilt A.D. ---, by Naomi Brocklehurst, of Brocklehurst Hall, in this county.” “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” — St. Matt. v. 16.

I read these words over and