The month of courtship had wasted: its very last hours were being

numbered. There was no putting off the day that advanced--the

bridal day; and all preparations for its arrival were complete. I,

at least, had nothing more to do: there were my trunks, packed,

locked, corded, ranged in a row along the wall of my little chamber;

to-morrow, at this time, they would be far on their road to London:

and so should I (D.V.),--or rather, not I, but one Jane Rochester, a

person whom as yet I knew not. The cards of address alone remained

to nail on: they lay, four little squares, in the drawer. Mr.

Rochester had himself written the direction, "Mrs. Rochester,--

Hotel, London," on each: I could not persuade myself to affix them,

or to have them affixed. Mrs. Rochester! She did not exist: she

would not be born till to-morrow, some time after eight o'clock

a.m.; and I would wait to be assured she had come into the world

alive before I assigned to her all that property. It was enough

that in yonder closet, opposite my dressing-table, garments said to

be hers had already displaced my black stuff Lowood frock and straw

bonnet: for not to me appertained that suit of wedding raiment; the

pearl-coloured robe, the vapoury veil pendent from the usurped

portmanteau. I shut the closet to conceal the strange, wraith-like

apparel it contained; which, at this evening hour--nine o'clock--

gave out certainly a most ghostly shimmer through the shadow of my

apartment. "I will leave you by yourself, white dream," I said. "I

am feverish: I hear the wind blowing: I will go out of doors and

feel it."

It was not only the hurry of preparation that made me feverish; not

only the anticipation of the great change--the new life which was to

commence to-morrow: both these circumstances had their share,

doubtless, in producing that restless, excited mood which hurried me

forth at this late hour into the darkening grounds: but a third

cause influenced my mind more than they.

I had at heart a strange and anxious thought. Something had

happened which I could not comprehend; no one knew of or had seen

the event but myself: it had taken place the preceding night. Mr.

Rochester that night was absent from home; nor was he yet returned:

business had called him to a small estate of two or three farms he

possessed thirty miles off--business it was requisite he should

settle in person, previous to his meditated departure from England.

I waited now his return; eager to disburthen my mind, and to seek of

him the solution of the enigma that perplexed me. Stay till he

comes, reader; and, when I disclose my secret to him, you shall

share the confidence.




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