the last supper painting

the last supper painting
'How do you like Thornfield?' she asked. I told her I liked it very
much.
'Yes,' she said, 'it is a pretty place; but I fear it will be
getting out of order, unless Mr. Rochester should take it into his
head to come and reside here permanently; or, at least, visit it
rather oftener: great houses and fine grounds require the presence
of the proprietor.'
'Mr. Rochester!' I exclaimed. 'Who is he?'
the last supper painting
'The owner of Thornfield,' she responded quietly. 'Did you not know
he was called Rochester?'
Of course I did not- I had never heard of him before; but the old
lady seemed to regard his existence as a universally understood
fact, with which everybody must be acquainted by instinct.
'I thought,' I continued, 'Thornfield belonged to you.'
'To me? Bless you, child; what an idea! To me! I am only the
housekeeper- the manager. To be sure I am distantly related to the
Rochesters by the mother's side, or at least my husband was; he was the last supper painting