While sobbing out this wish in broken accents, some one approached: I started up--again Helen Burns was near me; the fading fires just showed her coming up the long, vacant room; she brought my coffee and bread.
"Come, eat something," she said; but I put both away from me, feeling as if a drop or a crumb would have choked me in my present condition.

Helen regarded me, probably with surprise: I could not now abate my agitation, though I tried hard; I continued to weep aloud.

She sat down on the ground near me, embraced her knees with her arms, and rested her head upon them; in that attitude she remained silent as an Indian.

I was the first who spoke-- "Helen, why do you stay with a girl whom everybody believes to be a liar ?" "Everybody, Jane?
Why, there are only eighty people who have heard you called so, and the world contains hundreds of millions." "But what have I to do with millions?
The eighty, I know, despise me." "Jane, you are mistaken: probably not one in the school either despises or dislikes you: many, I am sure, pity you much." "How can they pity me after what Mr.Brocklehurst has said ?" "Mr.Brocklehurst is not a god: nor is he even a great and admired man: he is little liked here; he never took steps to make himself liked.

Had he treated you as an especial favourite, you would have found enemies, declared or covert, all around you; as it is, the greater number would offer you sympathy if they dared.