Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

Chapter I

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We
had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery
an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.

I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on
chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in
the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart
saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and hum-
bled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.