Chapter 2: Preparations
The next day found St. John making plans for our wedding, which was to take place almost immediately, so as not to interfere too much with the plans that were already laid. The man who was to replace St. John in his parish was prevailed upon to celebrate our marriage. What an ironic phrase- celebrate the joining of a young woman full of dreams to a man who marries her out of duty to God, abandoning his one love- for who here was celebrating? At the time, I thought none of this; I joined in the planning contentedly. Occasionally, thoughts of Mr. Rochester threatened to interrupt this busy time, but I dismissed them quickly. God had placed us on two different paths; I knew not what was on Mr. Rochester's path, but I had faith that God would take care of him.
My soon to be sisters helped me to pick out a dress for the occasion from the seamstress in town. It was simple, but I took comfort in its plainness, a stark contrast to the dress I had worn to wed Mr. Rochester. In two short days, we were married, solemnly and quietly. As we took our vows, Rosamond Oliver sobbed in her pew. Do not think that my heart did not go out to her, my only defense is that I had no wish to go against what God willed. Another two days passed before my husband and I left Morton for Cambridge. Our parting from Moor House brought many tears from myself, Mary and Diana. As St. John took out our sparse luggage, I asked Diana to secretly post a letter for me once I was departed.
My good cousin looked confused, but readily agreed, taking the envelope.
"Mrs. Fairfax, Thornfield Hall?" she read aloud, looking intently at me. "So you do have friends who are worried about you after all!"
I smiled at the recollection, but begged her to be silent on the subject as her brother returned to the room. Quietly, she hid the letter and rushed forward to finish her goodbyes.
Was I correct in writing to Thornfield with news of my marriage and new life? I believe I was. I knew my friends would be relieved to hear from me, since it seemed my earlier letters had not arrived. I also knew there was nothing for Mr. Rochester to do about the marriage after it had been preformed- he could not chase me to India and take me from my husband's arms! In one way, I was much relieved. The letter was charged to Diana to send after our departure, and depart we did, solemn, but content, ready to begin our new life of service and salvation.
The next day found St. John making plans for our wedding, which was to take place almost immediately, so as not to interfere too much with the plans that were already laid. The man who was to replace St. John in his parish was prevailed upon to celebrate our marriage. What an ironic phrase- celebrate the joining of a young woman full of dreams to a man who marries her out of duty to God, abandoning his one love- for who here was celebrating? At the time, I thought none of this; I joined in the planning contentedly. Occasionally, thoughts of Mr. Rochester threatened to interrupt this busy time, but I dismissed them quickly. God had placed us on two different paths; I knew not what was on Mr. Rochester's path, but I had faith that God would take care of him.
My soon to be sisters helped me to pick out a dress for the occasion from the seamstress in town. It was simple, but I took comfort in its plainness, a stark contrast to the dress I had worn to wed Mr. Rochester. In two short days, we were married, solemnly and quietly. As we took our vows, Rosamond Oliver sobbed in her pew. Do not think that my heart did not go out to her, my only defense is that I had no wish to go against what God willed. Another two days passed before my husband and I left Morton for Cambridge. Our parting from Moor House brought many tears from myself, Mary and Diana. As St. John took out our sparse luggage, I asked Diana to secretly post a letter for me once I was departed.
My good cousin looked confused, but readily agreed, taking the envelope.
"Mrs. Fairfax, Thornfield Hall?" she read aloud, looking intently at me. "So you do have friends who are worried about you after all!"
I smiled at the recollection, but begged her to be silent on the subject as her brother returned to the room. Quietly, she hid the letter and rushed forward to finish her goodbyes.
Was I correct in writing to Thornfield with news of my marriage and new life? I believe I was. I knew my friends would be relieved to hear from me, since it seemed my earlier letters had not arrived. I also knew there was nothing for Mr. Rochester to do about the marriage after it had been preformed- he could not chase me to India and take me from my husband's arms! In one way, I was much relieved. The letter was charged to Diana to send after our departure, and depart we did, solemn, but content, ready to begin our new life of service and salvation.