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 jeweller"s 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."