Mr. Rochester, as he sat in his damask-covered chair, looked different to not qu

Mr. Rochester, as he sat in his damask-covered chair, looked different to not quite so stern — much less gloomy. There was a smile on his lips, and his eyes sparkled, whether with wine or not He was in his after-dinner mood; more expanded and genial, and also more self-indulgent than the frigid and rigid temper of the morning; still he looked preciously grim, cushioning his massive head against the swelling back of his chair, and receiving the light from mantle