Who read Jane Eyre help me please: How does Jane feel

1. How does Jane feel about Mrs. Fairfax? (ch. 11)

Mrs. Fairfax is just the housekeeper, although she is a distant cousin of Rochester’s.  Mrs. Fairfax proves to be a neat, mild-looking elderly lady, who greets Jane kindly. Surprised, Jane finds herself to be the object of more attention than she has ever before received. Jane will be in the same category as Mrs. Fairfax: neither a member of the family nor a member of the serving class. Mrs. Fairfax is extremely welcoming to Jane upon her arrival to Thornfield and serves as another surrogate mother for Jane in the novel. Mrs. Fairfax doesn’t approve of Jane and Rochester’s marriage because of the differences in their ages and social classes.

2. How does Mrs. Fairfax characterize Rochester? (ch. 11)

She tells Jane that ‘ he has a gentleman’s tastes and habits, and he expects to have things managed in conformity to them. His character is unimpeachable, I suppose.  He is rather
peculiar, perhaps:  he has travelled a great deal, and seen a great deal of the world, I should think.  I dare say he is clever, but I never had much conversation with him. When Rochester speaks to you; you cannot be always sure whether he is in jest or earnest, whether he is pleased or the contrary; you don’t thoroughly understand him, in short–at least, I don’t:  but it is of no consequence, he is a very good master.’

3. How does Jane explain her own restlessness?

Jane is frequently restless and collects her thoughts while pacing Thornfield’s top-story passageway.  A restlessness exists in Jane’s nature that causes her pain. Walking along the corridor of the third story of the house is her only way of easing this discomfort. Yearning for a life of excitement, variety, and intellectual stimulation, Jane isn’t satisfied with the monotony of Mrs. Fairfax or the youthful simplicity of Adèle. In consequence, Jane spends much time within her own imagination, opening her inward ear to “a tale my imagination created, and narrated continuously; quickened with all incident, life, fire, feeling, that I desired and had not in my actual existence.”

She didn’t supposed that he could be Rochester. She thaught that he is just a servant and she liked him. His figure was enveloped in a riding cloak, fur collared and steel clasped; its details were not apparent, but I traced the general points of middle height and considerable breadth of chest.  He had a dark face, with stern features and a heavy brow; his eyes and gathered eyebrows looked ireful and thwarted just now; he was past youth, but had not reached middle-age; perhaps he might be thirty-five.  I felt no fear of him, and but little shyness.  Had he been a handsome, heroic-looking young gentleman, I should not have dared to stand thus questioning him against his will, and offering my services unasked.  I had hardly ever seen a handsome youth; never in my life spoken to one. I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance, gallantry, fascination; but had I met those qualities incarnate in masculine shape, I should have known instinctively that they neither had nor could have sympathy with anything in me, and should have shunned them as one would fire, lightning, or anything else that is bright but antipathetic.