And in catalepsy and a dead trance, I studiously held the quick of my nature." (109) Would such a catatonic nature have jammed the points of her scissors into her desk upon hearing read a religious text with which she did not agree? (117) One can hardly believe that a "mere looker-on of life" (141) would find it within to "go beyond herself" and argue with a man such as Dr. John about his beloved. (152) For a character so self-professedly cold and unfeeling, Lucy is quite able to take pleasure in the gullibility of others, as when she lies to Ginevra Fanshawe and likes the reaction (237), and is also liable to fits of romanticism, as evidenced by her over-reaction upon receiving a single, friendly letter from Dr. John Graham Bretton. (239) Also juxtaposed with these contradictions in character are Mr. Paul's estimations of Lucy's character. Indeed, he does understand her, as when he knows that she will savor Dr. John's letter. (241) Yet, he also comes to the conclusion that Lucy is an "egotist" (203) and "a young she wild creature, new caught, untamed." (232) This does not fit at all within the self-description Lucy has constructed, nor does it quite satisfy any conclusions the reader may have drawn from her actions. In the end, the reader must ask, as Ginevra Fanshawe, "Who are you, Miss Snowe?" (307).
Just as Lucy's nature seems to fluctuate between periods of calm and outbursts of vivacity, so does the setting change without warning between periods of content sunlight and vicious storm. These changes of scene virtually mirror the tonal shifts in the novel, as Bronte vary between blocks of everyday diction and description to scenes of gothic intensity. For example, though Lucy declares the legend of the haunted Nun "romantic rubbish" (106), the tone is quite different when Lucy actually sees the NUN for the first time and is quite shaken. (245) Another startling difference of tone and description is that between the rest of the novel and Lucy's narcotically-enhanced midnight escapade to the fete in the park.
