“Home!” she told the man. “Drive quickly.”
Almost before her own door she met Rochester. The sight of him was somehow or other an immense relief to her. She fell back again in the world which she knew. She stopped the carriage and called to him.
“Come and drive with me a little way,” she begged. “I am stifled. I want some fresh air. I want to talk to you. Oh, come, please!”
Rochester took the vacant seat by her side at once.
“What is it?” he asked gravely. “Tell me. You have had bad news?”
She shook her head.
“No!” she said. “I am afraid—that is all!”