Mr. Rochester continued blind the first two years of our union;
perhaps it was that circumstance that drew us so very near -- that knit us so very close:
for I was then his vision, as I am still his right hand.
Literally, I was (what he often called me) the apple of his eye.
He saw nature -- he saw books through me; and never did I weary of gazing for his behalf,
and of putting into words the effect of field, tree, town, river, cloud, sunbeam --
of the landscape before us; of the weather round us -- and impressing by sound on his ear what light could no longer stamp on his eye.
Never did I weary of reading to him; never did I weary of conducting him where he wished to go: of doing for him what he wished to be done.
And there was a pleasure in my services, most full, most exquisite, even though sad --
because he claimed these services without painful shame or damping humiliation.
He loved me so truly, that he knew no reluctance in profiting by my attendance:
he felt I loved him so fondly, that to yield that attendance was to indulge my sweetest wishes.
One morning at the end of the two years, as I was writing a letter to his dictation, he came and bent over me, and said --
"Jane, have you a glittering ornament round your neck?"
I had a gold watch-chain: I answered "Yes."
"And have you a pale blue dress on?"
I had. He informed me then, that for some time he had fancied the obscurity clouding one eye was becoming less dense; and that now he was sure of it.