"No," I heard her say: "she looks too stupid for any game of the
sort."
Ere long a bell tinkled, and the curtain drew up. Within the arch,
the bulky figure of Sir George Lynn, whom Mr. Rochester had likewise
chosen, was seen enveloped in a white sheet: before him, on a
table, lay open a large book; and at his side stood Amy Eshton,
draped in Mr. Rochester's cloak, and holding a book in her hand.
Somebody, unseen, rang the bell merrily; then Adele (who had
insisted on being one of her guardian's party), bounded forward,
scattering round her the contents of a basket of flowers she carried
on her arm. Then appeared the magnificent figure of Miss Ingram,
clad in white, a long veil on her head, and a wreath of roses round
her brow; by her side walked Mr. Rochester, and together they drew
near the table. They knelt; while Mrs. Dent and Louisa Eshton,
dressed also in white, took up their stations behind them. A
ceremony followed, in dumb show, in which it was easy to recognise
the pantomime of a marriage. At its termination, Colonel Dent and
his party consulted in whispers for two minutes, then the Colonel
called out "Bride!" Mr. Rochester bowed, and the curtain fell.
A considerable interval elapsed before it again rose. Its second
rising displayed a more elaborately prepared scene than the last.
The drawing-room, as I have before observed, was raised two steps
above the dining-room, and on the top of the upper step, placed a
yard or two back within the room, appeared a large marble basin--
which I recognised as an ornament of the conservatory--where it
usually stood, surrounded by exotics, and tenanted by gold fish--and
whence it must have been transported with some trouble, on account
of its size and weight.
Seated on the carpet, by the side of this basin, was seen Mr.
Rochester, costumed in shawls, with a turban on his head. His dark
eyes and swarthy skin and Paynim features suited the costume
exactly: he looked the very model of an Eastern emir, an agent or a
victim of the bowstring. Presently advanced into view Miss Ingram.
She, too, was attired in oriental fashion: a crimson scarf tied
sash-like round the waist: an embroidered handkerchief knotted
about her temples; her beautifully-moulded arms bare, one of them
upraised in the act of supporting a pitcher, poised gracefully on
her head. Both her cast of form and feature, her complexion and her
general air, suggested the idea of some Israelitish princess of the
patriarchal days; and such was doubtless the character she intended
to represent.