I married him. Those present at the wedding were only he, I, the parson, and the clerk. After we returned from the church, I entered the kitchen and found Mary and John there. I explained to the housekeeper and her husband that Mr. Rochester and I had left the manor-house early that morning and walked over to the church to be joined in holy matrimony. John had not been surprised at the news for he had had a suspicion that Mr. Edward (as John called his master for he was an old servant and had served Mr. Rochester's father) would propose marriage to me. Smiling at the old servant and housekeeper, I began to leave, but not before I placed a five-pound note into the hand of John. I explained that it was a gift from my husband, and walked out the little cottage in which they lived before John could refuse to accept the money.
Upon entering the manor-house in which Mr. Rochester and I lived, and after securing the comfort of my new husband, I wrote to my cousins, Mary and Diana. I explained to them the reason why I had first showed up at Moor House and that I had returned to Thornfield Hall for good. I also relayed the news that this time I had married my master, Mr. Rochester, and why I had acted so quickly on my resolution to enter that marriage. Both Diana and Mary understood my decision and both said that they would visit once Mr. Rochester and I had returned from our honey-moon. St. John received with indifference my letter announcing my marriage. He mentioned not the name of Mr. Rochester but said only that he wished me happiness and that I had not turned into someone who focused only on material objects and forgot God.
Soon after our wedding I inquired about little Adèle. Mr. Rochester told me he had sent her to a boarding school. I immediately asked leave of my new husband so I might visit little Adèle. Upon arriving at the school I ascertained instantly that she was not happy. The rules of the institution were too rigid, the studies too harsh; I returned home with her with every intention of becoming her governess once again. However, this idea was impractical – my husband needed all my time and cares. For Adèle I found a different school, one with a more tolerant environment, and one that offered me the ability to visit her often and to bring her home occasionally. She continued with her studies at her new abode and an English education fixed in a large part the flaws which had occurred from her French. When she left the establishment, she became a pleasurable friend and offered back to me the kindness I had shown her.
I wish, now, to reflect on the blissful happiness that can come only from living day in and day out with what we love most on earth. I spent my newly married life being the eyes of my blind master and husband – a task which I did whole-heartedly and patiently, with great care. I put into words all of the things around us which my Edward could not see with his own eyes, but which he saw through mine and my descriptions. I spoke of the fields, the trees, the sun, the river, all that was around us. So, too, did I read to him and take him anywhere he wished to go; all this I did without complaint, without weariness, and with all the pleasure and gentleness that I felt towards my husband.
This routine continued everyday, unceasingly, until one morning at the end of the second year of our marriage. I was writing a letter which Mr. Rochester was dictating when he came and bent over me. He asked me if I was wearing a pale blue dress with a sparkling ornament round my neck; my answer to both was yes. It appeared to him that the clouding of one of his eyes had gradually been thinning, and he was right and eventually the sight in that eye returned to him, though not at the best quality. I still had to read and write for my Edward, but he could walk around without being led. And, when a few years after his vision returned and our first born son was put into his arms, Edward could see that the boy had acquired his eyes as they used to be before the fire – large, brilliant, and black.
Both Diana and Mary Rivers married; Diana's husband is a captain in the navy, Mary's a clergyman. Both my cousins love their husbands and are loved by them. Diana and Captain Fitzjames have two children, Charlotte and Charles. Mary and Mr. Wharton have a daughter Josephine. Their brother, St. John, left for India as he said he would. He labors devotedly upon the path which he had set for himself. He never married like his sisters and never will. He lives in India still, and believes, soon, that he shall be rewarded for his diligent work and will achieve the goal towards which he so desperately worked.
Thirty years have passed since Edward and I first embarked upon our journey as husband and wife, and ten since Edward passed into that great abyss beyond life. Five years after our first son, Edward Jr., was born, I gave birth to a daughter, Ashley. I sought the help of Adèle to raise the children for their father's condition worsened and all my time and cares were directed towards him. Diana and Mary, along with their husbands and children, moved into Thornfield Hall as Edward grew sicker and blinder and Adèle found love and had less time to care for Edward Jr. and Ashley. The children grew fond of each other and wished to spend time together whenever the chance afforded them.
Edward Jr. was fifteen, and little Ashley ten, when their father died. No words could describe the pain I felt at losing Mr. Rochester for a second time, and permanently. I could not describe to my ten year old daughter that her father would not walk into the room and pick her up ever again, and I urged her brother not to try, but to support and care for his little sister the best he could. As Ashley grew up, I told her stories of her father and all that had passed between him and me. Edward Jr., now twenty-five years old, looks like a younger version of his father. He is happily married to a wonderful wife, and they are expecting their first child within the month. Ashley enjoys the parties and gaieties offered to her by the lifestyle into which she was born, and happily engages Diana's and Mary's children in the activities.
I write this memoir for my children and grandchildren to read when I am reunited once more with my Edward; I feel that time will come very soon for I am old and weary with the trials of my life. I know that, once I can be with Edward for eternity, I will find a peace for which I have longed since I first felt the presence of a spirit in the room at Gateshead Hall all those years ago.