k satin. I told him in a
new series of whispers, that he might as well buy me a gold gown and a
silver bonnet at once: I should certainly never venture to wear his
choice. With infinite difficulty, for he was stubborn as a stone, I
persuaded him to make an exchange in favour of a sober black satin and
pearl-grey silk. "It might pass for the present," he said; "but he would
yet see me glittering like a parterre."

Glad was I to get him out of the silk warehouse, and then out of a
jewellers shop: the more he bought me, the more my cheek burned with a
sense of annoyance and degradation. As we re-entered the carriage, and I
sat back feverish and fagged, I remembered what, in the hurry of events,
dark and bright, I had wholly forgotten--the letter of my uncle, John
Eyre, to Mrs. Reed: his intention to adopt me and make me his legatee.
"It would, indeed, be a relief," I thought, "if I had ever so small an
independency; I never can bear being dressed like a doll by Mr.
Rochester, or sitting like a second Danae with the golden shower falling
daily round me. I will write to Madeira the moment I get home, and tell
my uncle John I am going to be married, and to whom: if I had but a
prospect of one day bringing Mr. Rochester an accession of fortune, I
could better endure to be kept by him now." And somewhat relieved by
this idea (which I failed not to execute that day), I ventured once more
to meet my master's and lover's eye, which most pertinaciously sought
mine, though I averted both face and gaze. He smiled; and I thought his
smile was such as a sultan might, in a blissful and fond moment, bestow
on a slave his gold and gems had enriched: I crushed his hand, which was
ever hunting mine, vigorously, and thrust it back to him red with the
passionate pressure.

"You need not look in that way," I said; "if you do, I'll wear nothing
but my old Lowood frocks to the end of the chapter. I'll be married in
this lilac gingham: you may make a dressing-gown for yourself out of the
pearl-grey silk, and an infinite series of waistcoats out of the black
satin."

He chuckled; he rubbed his hands. "Oh, it is rich to see and hear her?"
he exclaimed. "Is she original? Is she piquant? I would not exchange
this one little English girl for the Grand Turk's whole seraglio, gazelle-
eyes, houri forms, and all!"

The Eastern allusion bit me again. "I'll not stand you an inch in the
stead of a seraglio," I said; "so don't consider me an