CHAPTER XXIV

As I rose to dress, I thought of her 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 color, and my eyes seemed as if they had

beheld the fount of fruition, and barred 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 plane 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

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 glad some 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 caught and blithered bird sang, but nothing was so merry or so musical as my

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