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.