CHAPTER XXIV 340
we shall leave earth , and make our own heaven yonder .' She nodded again at the moon . The ring , Adele , is in my breeches-pocket , under the disguise of a sovereign : but I mean soon to change it to a ring again ."
" But what has mademoiselle to do with it ? I don ' t care for the fairy : you said it was mademoiselle you would take to the moon ?"
" Mademoiselle is a fairy ," he said , whispering mysteriously . Whereupon I told her not to mind his badinage ; and she , on her part , evinced a fund of genuine French scepticism : denominating Mr . Rochester " un vrai menteur ," and assuring him that she made no account whatever of his " contes de fee ," and that " du reste , il n ' y avait pas de fees , et quand meme il y en avait :" she was sure they would never appear to him , nor ever give him rings , or offer to live with him in the moon .
The hour spent at Millcote was a somewhat harassing one to me . Mr . Rochester obliged me to go to a certain silk warehouse : there I was ordered to choose half-a-dozen dresses . I hated the business , I begged leave to defer it : no -- it should be gone through with now . By dint of entreaties expressed in energetic whispers , I reduced the half-dozen to two : these however , he vowed he would select himself . With anxiety I watched his eye rove over the gay stores : he fixed on a rich silk of the most brilliant amethyst dye , and a superb pink satin . I told him in a new series of whispers , that he might as well buy me a gold gown and a silver bonnet at once : I should certainly never venture to wear his choice . With infinite difficulty , for he was stubborn as a stone , I persuaded him to make an exchange in favour of a sober black satin and pearl-grey silk . " It might pass for the present ," he said ; " but he would yet see me glittering like a parterre ."
Glad was I to get him out of the silk warehouse , and then out of a jewellers shop : the more he bought me , the more my cheek burned with a sense of annoyance and degradation . As we re-entered the carriage , and I sat back feverish and fagged , I remembered what , in the hurry of events , dark and bright , I had wholly forgotten -- the letter of my uncle , John Eyre , to Mrs . Reed : his intention to adopt me and make me his legatee . " It would , indeed , be a relief ," I thought , " if I had ever so small an independency ; I never can