“ Madam ⁠—Will you have the goodness to send me the address of my niece, Jane Eyre, and to tell me how she is? It is my intention to write shortly and desire her to come to me at Madeira. Providence has blessed my endeavours to secure a competency; and as I am unmarried and childless, I wish to adopt her during my life, and bequeath her at my death whatever I may have to leave.⁠— I am, Madam, etc. , etc. ,

“John Eyre, Madeira.”

It was dated three years back.

“Why did I never hear of this?” I asked.