"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 rain 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!"