AS I rose and dressed, I thought over what had happened, and

wondered if it were a dream. I could not be certain of the reality

till I had seen Mr. Rochester again, and heard him renew his words

of love and promise.

While arranging my hair, I looked at my face in the glass, and felt

it was no longer plain: there was hope in its aspect and life in its

colour; and my eyes seemed as if they had beheld the fount of

fruition, and borrowed beams from the lustrous ripple. I had often

been unwilling to look at my master, because I feared he could not

be pleased at my look; but I was sure I might lift my face to his now,

and not cool his affection by its expression. I took a plain but clean

and light summer dress from my drawer and put it on: it seemed no

attire had ever so well become me, because none had I ever worn in

so blissful a mood.

I was not surprised, when I ran down into the hall, to see that a

brilliant June morning had succeeded to the tempest of the night;

and to feel, through the open glass door, the breathing of a fresh and

fragrant breeze. Nature must be gladsome when I was so happy. A

beggar-woman and her little boy- pale, ragged objects both- were

coming up the walk, and I ran down and gave them all the money I

happened to have in my purse- some three or four shillings: good or

bad, they must partake of my jubilee. The rooks cawed, and blither

birds sang; but nothing was so merry or so musical as my own rejoicing

heart.

Mrs. Fairfax surprised me by looking out of the window with a sad

countenance, and saying gravely- 'Miss Eyre, will you come to

breakfast?' During the meal she was quiet and cool: but I could not

undeceive her then. I must wait for my master to give explanations;

and so must she. I ate what I could, and then I hastened upstairs. I

met Adele leaving the schoolroom.

'Where are you going? It is time for lessons.'

'Mr. Rochester has sent me away to the nursery.'

'Where is he?'

'In there,' pointing to the apartment she had left; and I went

in, and there he stood.

'Come and bid me good-morning,' said he. I gladly advanced; and

it was not merely a cold word now, or even a shake of the hand that

I received, but an embrace and a kiss. It seemed natural: it seemed

genial to be so well loved, so caressed by him.

'Jane, you look blooming, and smiling, and pretty,' said he: 'truly

pretty this morning. Is this my pale, little elf? Is this my

mustard-seed? This little sunny-faced girl with the dimpled cheek

and rosy lips; the satin-smooth hazel hair, and the radiant hazel

eyes?' (I had green eyes, reader; but you must excuse the mistake: for

him they were new-dyed, I suppose.)

'It is Jane Eyre, sir.'

'Soon to be Jane Rochester,' he added: 'in four weeks, Janet; not a

day more. Do you hear that?'

I did, and I could not quite comprehend it: it made me giddy. The

feeling, the announcement sent through me, was something stronger than

was consistent with joy- something that smote and stunned: it was, I

think, almost fear.

'You blushed, and now you are white, Jane: what is that for?'

'Because you gave me a new name- Jane Rochester; and it seems so

strange.'

'Yes, Mrs. Rochester,' said he; 'young Mrs. Rochester- Fairfax

Rochester's girl-bride.'

'It can never be, sir; it does not sound likely. Human beings never

enjoy complete happiness in this world. I was not born for a different

destiny to the rest of my species: to imagine such a lot befalling

me is a fairy tale- a day-dream.'

'Which I can and will realise. I shall begin to-day. This morning I

wrote to my banker in London to send me certain jewels he has in his

keeping,- heirlooms for the ladies of Thornfield. In a day or two I

hope to pour them into your lap: for every privilege, every

attention shall be yours that I would accord a peer's daughter, if

about to marry her.'

'Oh, sir!- never mind jewels! I don't like to hear them spoken

of. Jewels for Jane Eyre sounds unnatural and strange: I would

rather not have them.'

'I will myself put the diamond chain round your neck, and the

circlet on your forehead,- which it will become: for nature, at least,

has stamped her patent of nobility on this brow, Jane; and I will

clasp the bracelets on these fine wrists, and load these fairy-like

fingers with rings.'

'No, no, sir! think of other subjects, and speak of other things,

and in another strain. Don't address me as if I were a beauty; I am

your plain, Quakerish governess.'

'You are a beauty in my eyes, and a beauty just after the desire of

my heart,- delicate and aerial.'

'Puny and insignificant, you mean. You are dreaming, sir,- or you

are sneering. For God's sake, don't be ironical!'

'I will make the world acknowledge you a beauty, too,' he went

on, while I really became uneasy at the strain he had adopted, because

I felt he was either deluding himself or trying to delude me. 'I

will attire my Jane in satin and lace, and she shall have roses in her

hair; and I will cover the head I love best with a priceless veil.'

'And then you won't know me, sir; and I shall not be your Jane Eyre

any longer, but an ape in a harlequin's jacket- a jay in borrowed

plumes. I would as soon see you, Mr. Rochester, tricked out in

stage-trappings, as myself clad in a court-lady's robe; and I don't

call you handsome, sir, though I love you most dearly: far too

dearly to flatter you. Don't flatter me.'

He pursued his theme, however, without noticing my deprecation.

'This very day I shall take you in the carriage to Millcote, and you

must choose some dresses for yourself. I told you we shall be

married in four weeks. The wedding is to take place quietly, in the

church down below yonder; and then I shall waft you away at once to

town. After a brief stay there, I shall bear my treasure to regions

nearer the sun: to French vineyards and Italian plains; and she

shall see whatever is famous in old story and in modern record: she

shall taste, too, of the life of cities; and she shall learn to

value herself by just comparison with others.'

'Shall I travel?- and with you, sir?'

'You shall sojourn at Paris, Rome, and Naples: at Florence, Venice,

and Vienna: all the ground I have wandered over shall be re-trodden by

you: wherever I stamped my hoof, your sylph's foot shall step also.

Ten years since, I flew through Europe half mad; with disgust, hate,

and rage as my companions: now I shall revisit it healed and

cleaned, with a very angel as my comforter.'

I laughed at him as he said this. 'I am not an angel,' I

asserted; 'and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself. Mr.

Rochester, you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me-

for you will not get it, any more than I shall get it of you: which

I do not at all anticipate.'

'What do you anticipate of me?'

'For a little while you will perhaps be as you are now,- a very

little while; and then you will turn cool; and then you will be

capricious; and then you will be stern, and I shall have much ado to

please you: but when you get well used to me, you will perhaps like me

again,- like me, I say, not love me. I suppose your love will

effervesce in six months, or less. I have observed in books written by

men, that period assigned as the farthest to which a husband's

ardour extends. Yet, after all, as a friend and companion, I hope

never to become quite distasteful to my dear master.'

'Distasteful! and like you again! I think I shall like you again,

and yet again: and I will make you confess I do not only like, but

love you- with truth, fervour, constancy.'

'Yet are you not capricious, sir?'

'To women who please me only by their faces, I am the very devil

when I find out they have neither souls nor hearts- when they open

to me a perspective of flatness, triviality, and perhaps imbecility,

coarseness, and ill-temper: but to the clear eye and eloquent

tongue, to the soul made of fire, and the character that bends but

does not break- at once supple and stable, tractable and consistent- I

am ever tender and true.'

'Had you ever experience of such a character, sir? Did you ever

love such an one?'

'I love it now.'

'But before me: if I, indeed, in any respect come up to your

difficult standard?'

'I never met your likeness. Jane, you please me, and you master me-

you seem to submit, and I like the sense of pliancy you impart; and

while I am twining the soft, silken skein round my finger, it sends

a thrill up my arm to my heart. I am influenced- conquered; and the

influence is sweeter than I can express; and the conquest I undergo

has a witchery beyond any triumph I can win. Why do you smile, Jane?

What does that inexplicable, that uncanny turn of countenance mean?'

'I was thinking, sir (you will excuse the idea; it was

involuntary), I was thinking of Hercules and Samson with their

charmers-'

'You were, you little elfish-'

'Hush, sir! You don't talk very wisely just now; any more than

those gentlemen acted very wisely. However, had they been married,

they would no doubt by their severity as husbands have made up for

their softness as suitors; and so will you, I fear. I wonder how you

will answer me a year hence, should I ask a favour it does not suit

your convenience or pleasure to grant.'

'Ask me something now, Janet- the least thing: I desire to be

entreated-'

'Indeed I will sir; I have my petition all ready.'

'Speak! But if you look up and smile with that countenance, I shall

swear concession before I know to what, and that will make a fool of

me.'

'Not at all, sir; I ask only this: don't send for the jewels, and

don't crown me with roses: you might as well put a border of gold lace

round that plain pocket-handkerchief you have there.'

'I might as well "gild refined gold." I know it: your request is

granted then- for the time. I will remand the order I despatched to my

banker. But you have not yet asked for anything; you have prayed a

gift to be withdrawn: try again.'

'Well, then, sir, have the goodness to gratify my curiosity,

which is much piqued on one point.'

He looked disturbed. 'What? what?' he said hastily. 'Curiosity is a

dangerous petition: it is well I have not taken a vow to accord

every request-'

'But there can be no danger in complying with this, sir.'

'Utter it, Jane: but I wish that instead of a mere inquiry into,

perhaps, a secret, it was a wish for half my estate.'

'Now, King Ahasuerus! What do I want with half your estate? Do

you think I am a Jew-usurer, seeking good investment in land? I

would much rather have all your confidence. You will not exclude me

from your confidence if you admit me to your heart?'

'You are welcome to all my confidence that is worth having, Jane;

but for God's sake, don't desire a useless burden! Don't long for

poison- don't turn out a downright Eve on my hands!'

'Why not, sir? You have just been telling me how much you liked

to be conquered, and how pleasant over-persuasion is to you. Don't you

think I had better take advantage of the confession, and begin and

coax and entreat- even cry and be sulky if necessary- for the sake

of a mere essay of my power?'

'I dare you to any such experiment. Encroach, presume, and the game

is up.'

'Is it, sir? You soon give in. How stern you look now! Your

eyebrows have become as thick as my finger, and your forehead

resembles what, in some very astonishing poetry, I once saw styled, "a

blue-piled thunderloft." That will be your married look, sir, I

suppose?'

'If that will be your married look, I, as a Christian, will soon

give up the notion of consorting with a mere sprite or salamander. But

what had you to ask, thing,- out with it?'

'There, you are less than civil now; and I like rudeness a great

deal better than flattery. I had rather be a thing than an angel. This

is what I have to ask,- Why did you take such pains to make me believe

you wished to marry Miss Ingram?'

'Is that all? Thank God it is no worse!' And now he unknit his

black brows; looked down, smiling at me, and stroked my hair, as if

well pleased at seeing a danger averted. 'I think I may confess,' he

continued, 'even although I should make you a little indignant,

Jane- and I have seen what a fire-spirit you can be when you are

indignant. You glowed in the cool moonlight last night, when you

mutinied against fate, and claimed your rank as my equal. Janet, by

the bye, it was you who made me the offer.'

'Of course I did. But to the point if you please, sir- Miss

Ingram?'

'Well, I feigned courtship of Miss Ingram, because I wished to

render you as madly in love with me as I was with you; and I knew

jealousy would be the best ally I could call in for the furtherance of

that end.'

'Excellent! Now you are small- not one whit bigger than the end

of my little finger. It was a burning shame and a scandalous

disgrace to act in that way. Did you think nothing of Miss Ingram's

feelings, sir?'

'Her feelings are concentrated in one- pride; and that needs

humbling. Were you jealous, Jane?'

'Never mind, Mr. Rochester: it is in no way interesting to you to

know that. Answer me truly once more. Do you think Miss Ingram will

not suffer from your dishonest coquetry? Won't she feel forsaken and

deserted?'

'Impossible!- when I told you how she, on the contrary, deserted

me: the idea of my insolvency cooled, or rather extinguished, her

flame in a moment.'

'You have a curious, designing mind, Mr. Rochester. I am afraid

your principles on some points are eccentric.'

'My principles were never trained, Jane: they may have grown a

little awry for want of attention.'

'Once again, seriously; may I enjoy the great good that has been

vouchsafed to me, without fearing that any one else is suffering the

bitter pain I myself felt a while ago?'

'That you may, my good little girl: there is not another being in

the world has the same pure love for me as yourself- for I lay that

pleasant unction to my soul, Jane, a belief in your affection.'

I turned my lips to the hand that lay on my shoulder. I loved him

very much- more than I could trust myself to say- more than words

had power to express.

'Ask something more,' he said presently; 'it is my delight to be

entreated, and to yield.'

I was again ready with my request. 'Communicate your intentions

to Mrs. Fairfax, sir: she saw me with you last night in the hall,

and she was shocked. Give her some explanation before I see her again.

It pains me to be misjudged by so good a woman.'

'Go to your room, and put on your bonnet,' he replied. 'I mean

you to accompany me to Millcote this morning; and while you prepare

for the drive, I will enlighten the old lady's understanding. Did

she think, Janet, you had given the world for love, and considered

it well lost?'

'I believe she thought I had forgotten my station, and yours, sir.'

'Station! station!- your station is in my heart, and on the necks

of those who would insult you, now or hereafter.- Go.'

I was soon dressed; and when I heard Mr. Rochester quit Mrs.

Fairfax's parlour, I hurried down to it. The old lady had been reading

her morning portion of Scripture- the Lesson for the day; her Bible

lay open before her, and her spectacles were upon it. Her

occupation, suspended by Mr. Rochester's announcement, seemed now

forgotten: her eyes, fixed on the blank wall opposite, expressed the

surprise of a quiet mind stirred by unwonted tidings. Seeing me, she

roused herself: she made a sort of effort to smile, and framed a few

words of congratulation; but the smile expired, and the sentence was

abandonedunfinished. She put up her spectacles, shut the Bible, and

pushed her chair back from the table.

'I feel so astonished,' she began, 'I hardly know what to say to

you, Miss Eyre. I have surely not been dreaming, have I? Sometimes I

half fall asleep when I am sitting alone and fancy things that have

never happened. It has seemed to me more than once when I have been in

a doze, that my dear husband, who died fifteen years since, has come

in and sat down beside me; and that I have even heard him call me by

my name, Alice, as he used to do. Now, can you tell me whether it is

actually true that Mr. Rochester has asked you to marry him? Don't

laugh at me. But I really thought he came in here five minutes ago,

and said that in a month you would be his wife.'

'He has said the same thing to me,' I replied.

'He has! Do you believe him? Have you accepted him?'

'Yes.'

She looked at me bewildered.

'I could never have thought it. He is a proud man: all the

Rochesters were proud: and his father, at least, liked money. He, too,

has always been called careful. He means to marry you?'

'He tells me so.'

She surveyed my whole person: in her eyes I read that they had

there found no charm powerful enough to solve the enigma.

'It passes me!' she continued; 'but no doubt it is true since you

say so. How it will answer, I cannot tell: I really don't know.

Equality of position and fortune is often advisable in such cases; and

there are twenty years of difference in your ages. He might almost

be your father.'

'No, indeed, Mrs. Fairfax!' exclaimed I, nettled; 'he is nothing

like my father! No one, who saw us together, would suppose it for an

instant. Mr. Rochester looks as young, and is as young, as some men at

five-and-twenty.'

'Is it really for love he is going to marry you?' she asked.

I was so hurt by her coldness and scepticism, that the tears rose

to my eyes.

'I am sorry to grieve you,' pursued the widow; 'but you are so

young, and so little acquainted with men, I wished to put you on

your guard. It is an old saying that "all is not gold that

glitters"; and in this case I do fear there will be something found to

be different to what either you or I expect.'

'Why?- am I a monster?' I said: 'is it impossible that Mr.

Rochester should have a sincere affection for me?'

'No: you are very well; and much improved of late; and Mr.

Rochester, I daresay, is fond of you. I have always noticed that you

were a sort of pet of his. There are times when, for your sake, I have

been a little uneasy at his marked preference, and have wished to

put you on your guard: but I did not like to suggest even the

possibility of wrong. I knew such an idea would shock, perhaps

offend you; and you were so discreet, and so thoroughly modest and

sensible, I hoped you might be trusted to protect yourself. Last night

I cannot tell you what I suffered when I sought all over the house,

and could find you nowhere, nor the master either; and then, at twelve

o'clock, saw you come in with him.'

'Well, never mind that now,' I interrupted impatiently; 'it is

enough that all was right.'

'I hope all will be right in the end,' she said: 'but believe me,

you cannot be too careful. Try and keep Mr. Rochester at a distance:

distrust yourself as well as him. Gentlemen in his station are not

accustomed to marry their governesses.'

I was growing truly irritated: happily, Adele ran in.

'Let me go,- let me go to Millcote too!' she cried. 'Mr.

Rochester won't: though there is so much room in the new carriage. Beg

him to let me go, mademoiselle.'

'That I will, Adele'; and I hastened away with her, glad to quit my

gloomy monitress. The carriage was ready: they were bringing it

round to the front, and my master was pacing the pavement, Pilot

following him backwards and forwards.

'Adele may accompany us, may she not, sir?'

'I told her no. I'll have no brats!- I'll have only you.'

'Do let her go, Mr. Rochester, if you please: it would be better.'

'Not it: she will be a restraint.'

He was quite peremptory, both in look and voice. The chill of

Mrs. Fairfax's warnings, and the damp of her doubts were upon me:

something of unsubstantiality and uncertainty had beset my hopes. I

half lost the sense of power over him. I was about mechanically to

obey him, without further remonstrance; but as he helped me into the

carriage, he looked at my face.

'What is the matter?' he asked; 'all the sunshine is gone. Do you

really wish the bairn to go? Will it annoy you if she is left behind?'

'I would far rather she went, sir.'

'Then off for your bonnet, and back like a flash of lightning!'

cried he to Adele.

She obeyed him with what speed she might.

'After all, a single morning's interruption will not matter

much,' said he, 'when I mean shortly to claim you- your thoughts,

conversation, and company- for life.'

Adele, when lifted in, commenced kissing me, by way of expressing

her gratitude for my intercession: she was instantly stowed away

into a corner on the other side of him. She then peeped round to where

I sat; so stern a neighbour was too restrictive; to him, in his

present fractious mood, she dared whisper no observations, nor ask

of him any information.

'Let her come to me,' I entreated: 'she will, perhaps, trouble you,

sir: there is plenty of room on this side.'

He handed her over as if she had been a lapdog. 'I'll send her to

school yet,' he said, but now he was smiling.

Adele heard him, and asked if she was to go to school 'sans

mademoiselle?'

'Yes,' he replied, 'absolutely sans mademoiselle; for I am to

take mademoiselle to the moon, and there I shall seek a cave in one of

the white valleys among the volcano-tops, and mademoiselle shall

live with me there, and only me.'

'She will have nothing to eat: you will starve her,' observed

Adele.

'I shall gather manna for her morning and night: the plains and

hillsides in the moon are bleached with manna, Adele.'

'She will want to warm herself: what will she do for a fire?'

'Fire rises out of the lunar mountains: when she is cold, I'll

carry her up to a peak, and lay her down on the edge of a crater.'

'Oh, qu'elle y sera mal- peu comfortable! And her clothes, they

will wear out: how can she get new ones?'

Mr. Rochester professed to be puzzled. 'Hem!' said he. 'What

would you do, Adele? Cudgel your brains for an expedient. How would

a white or a pink cloud answer for a gown, do you think? And one could

cut a pretty enough scarf out of a rainbow.'

'She is far better as she is,' concluded Adele, after musing some

time: 'besides, she would get tired of living with only you in the

moon. If I were mademoiselle, I would never consent to go with you.'

'She has consented: she has pledged her word.'

'But you can't get her there; there is no road to the moon: it is

all air; and neither you nor she can fly.'

'Adele, look at that field.' We were now outside Thornfield

gates, and bowling lightly along the smooth road to Millcote, where

the dust was well laid by the thunderstorm, and where the low hedges

and lofty timber trees on each side glistened green and

rain-refreshed.

'In that field, Adele, I was walking late one evening about a

fortnight since- the evening of the day you helped me to make hay in

the orchard meadows; and as I was tired with raking swaths, I sat down

to rest me on a stile; and there I took out a little book and a

pencil, and began to write about a misfortune that befell me long ago,

and a wish I had for happy days to come: I was writing away very fast,

though daylight was fading from the leaf, when something came up the

path and stopped two yards off me. I looked at it. It was a little

thing with a veil of gossamer on its head. I beckoned it to come

near me; it stood soon at my knee. I never spoke to it, and it never