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"Jane, you look bloo, and pretty," said he: "truly

pretty thisIs this my pale, little elf? Is this irl with the dimpled cheek

and rosy lips; the satin-sreen eyes, reader; but you must excuse the mistake:

for him they were new-dyed, I suppose) "It is Jane Eyre, sir"

"Soon to be Jane Rochester," he added: "in four weeks, Janet; not a

day more Do you hear that?"

I did, and I could not quite co, the announceer

than was consistent with joy--so that smote and stunned It

was, I think almost fear

"You blushed, and now you are white, Jane: what is that for?"

"Because you gave e"

"Yes, Mrs Rochester," said he; "young Mrs Rochester--Fairfax

Rochester's girl-bride"

"It can never be, sir; it does not sound likely Hus never

enjoy complete happiness in this world I was not born for a

different destiny to the rest ofme is a fairy tale--a day-dreain to-day This