I feel so sad for little Jane, that she feels "an inexpressible relief, a soothing conviction of protection and security, when I knew that there was a stranger in th eroom" (p. 25). Poor thing really is terrified of her aunt and cousins, and with good reason, as we have seen. I'm glad this apothecary is kind and sensible.
Do you think that Jane suffers from some sort of PTSD-like affliction? She says that the Red Room experience "gave my nerves a shock, of which I feel the reverberation to this day," which involve "fearful pangs of mental suffering" (p. 26). And she seems to be not just in shock, but depressed in this chapter, crying even though she tries to stop, not interested in things that used to fascinate her, and not eating. That can be our Possible Discussion Question for the day.
And my goodness, how that song she quotes Bessie as singing describes her later experiences, right down to the moors and the gray rocks, the hard-hearted men and weary limbs.
I must admit I did chuckle at one point in this chapter, though, when Jane says she thinks Abbot suspected her of being "a sort of infantine Guy Fawkes" (p. 33). Maybe I chuckled because the idea of blowing Gateshead Hall up with gunpowder feels like a good idea.