Summary

Jane Eayre Fryer The Mary Frances Story Book; or…

She turned toward him, and repeated the word, “Cruel?”
“He accuses himself too strongly, Bertha,” said Dot. “You’ll say so, presently. You’ll be the first to tell him so.”
“He, cruel to me?” cried Bertha, with an unbelieving smile.
“Not meaning to be, my child,” said Caleb, “but I have been, although I never knew it until yesterday. My dear blind daughter, forgive me. The world, dear heart, is not as you imagine it. It is not as I have represented it. The eyes you have trusted in have been false to you.”
Source: Gutenberg

Jane Eayre Fryer The Mary Frances Story Book; or…

He glowered at Mary Frances as though he would like to bite her, but she was not afraid.
“Behave!” said the King. “You cannot frighten a person who has been so brave as to part the iron-chain curtain. If she had been afraid of the old witch, the curtain would not have parted, and all the children in the world would have been still waiting for new stories.”
He turned to the Queen. “Have you a fitting punishment, my dear?” he asked.
“I have,” said the Queen, very solemnly. “It is this: the pirate shall never again hear a story or read a story!”
Source: Gutenberg

Jane Eayre Fryer The Mary Frances Story Book; or…

Then as it grew dark, since it was the solemn rule that Bertha should do no household tasks on the days of the picnics, Dot trimmed the fire, and swept the hearth, and set the tea-tray out, and drew the curtains, and lighted a candle. Then she played an air or two on a rude kind of harp which Caleb had made for Bertha, and played them very well; for Nature had made her delicate little ear as choice a one for music as it would have been for jewels—if she had had them to wear.
Source: Gutenberg

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