this world a
dreary wilderness: for me it blossomed like a rose. Just at sunset, the
air turned cold and the sky cloudy: I went in, Sophie called me upstairs
to look at my wedding-dress, which they had just brought; and under it in
the box I found your present--the veil which, in your princely
extravagance, you sent for from London: resolved, I suppose, since I
would not have jewels, to cheat me into accepting something as costly. I
smiled as I unfolded it, and devised how I would tease you about your
aristocratic tastes, and your efforts to masque your plebeian bride in
the attributes of a peeress. I thought how I would carry down to you the
square of unembroidered blond I had myself prepared as a covering for my
low-born head, and ask if that was not good enough for a woman who could
bring her husband neither fortune, beauty, nor connections. I saw
plainly how you would look; and heard your impetuous republican answers,
and your haughty disavowal of any necessity on your part to augment your
wealth, or elevate your standing, by marrying either a purse or a
coronet."

"How well you read me, you witch!" interposed Mr. Rochester: "but what
did you find in the veil besides its embroidery? Did you find poison, or
a dagger, that you look so mournful now?"

"No, no, sir; besides the delicacy and richness of the fabric, I found
nothing save Fairfax Rochester's pride; and that did not scare me,
because I am used to the sight of the demon. But, sir, as it grew dark,
the wind rose: it blew yesterday evening, not as it blows now--wild and
high--but 'with a sullen, moaning sound' far more eerie. I wished you
were at home. I came into this room, and the sight of the empty chair
and fireless hearth chilled me. For some time after I went to bed, I
could not sleep--a sense of anxious excitement distressed me. The gale
still rising, seemed to my ear to muffle a mournful under-sound; whether
in the house or abroad I could not at first tell, but it recurred,
doubtful yet doleful at every lull; at last I made out it must be some
dog howling at a distance. I was glad when it ceased. On sleeping, I
continued in dreams the idea of a dark and gusty night. I continued also
the wish to be with you, and experienced a strange, regretful
consciousness of some barrier dividing us. During all my first sleep, I
was following the windings of an unknown road; total obscurity environed
me; rain pelted me; I was burdened with the charge o