And so I set out on the long journey back to Thornfield. Mrs Fairfax had written to me while I was at Gateshead, telling me that the guests had all gone, and Mr Rochester had gone to London to buy a carriage for his wedding. It was clear that he would be getting married very soon.

After a long day sitting in the coach, I decided to get out at Millcote, leave my luggage at the hotel, and walk across the fields to Thornfield. It was a warm June evening, and I felt glad to be going home. I had to remind myself sternly that Thornfield was not my permanent home, and that the person I was so looking forward to seeing was perhaps not even thinking of me.

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