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CHAPTER TEN

Maria

And so now I have written it. It is three o’clock in the morning. The house is very quiet and the wind has stopped. I can hear the sound of the wood burning in the fire and the clock on the stairs. Somewhere upstairs Arthur Nicholls is sleeping quietly.

I know that Charlotte’s friend, Mrs Gaskell, has nearly finished her book about Charlotte. Perhaps I will show her what I have written.

Perhaps. But I don’t think so. I wrote to her before, and answered her questions, and that is enough. She is a writer, she can write her own book. I will keep this book in my desk, for myself - and perhaps for Arthur Nicholls.

There is no need for other people to read it. My daughter Charlotte is famous already, and when Mrs Gaskell has I wish my wife Maria could read Charlotte’s books - and Emily’s, and Anne’s. Perhaps she can. We had some fine children, didn’t we, Maria?

I wonder if she can hear me. It is a fine night, now that the wind has stopped. There is a bright moon, and the sky is full of stars. I think I will go outside, and walk through the graveyard to the church, and talk to Maria there.