"The news of the wedding had slipt abroad before the little party
came out of the church, and many old and humble friends were there,
seeing her look 'like a snowdrop' as they say. Her dress was white
embroidered muslin, with a lace mantle, and white bonnet trimmed
with green leaves, which perhaps might suggest the resemblance to
the pale wintry flower."
Her married love and happiness were of very brief duration; a few short
months, and she lay upon the bed from which she would rise no more.
Waking for an instant, we are told, "from this stupor of intelligence,
she saw her husband's woe-worn face, and caught the sound of some
murmured words of prayer that God would spare her. 'Oh,' she whispered
forth, 'I am not going to die, am I? He will not separate us, we have
been so happy.'" But love or prayer could not stay the hand of death,
which had marked all of this family for an early doom, and she passed
sweetly away in the arms of her devoted husband. Thank God for the
little glimpse of womanly happiness which He gave her at the last, and
for the faithful mourner who held her memory so sacred for many years in
the old gray manse. Mr. Nichols watched faithfully over the old father
in his last days, and only left Haworth when duty held him there no
longer, although the place had grown inexpressibly sad to him after his
affliction. To the graves of the gifted women who sleep there,
pilgrimages are made to this day. The Yorkshire region has changed much;
and many now seek its wild heathery moors, not only for its own sake,
but for the sake of those who loved and suffered in the little gray
parsonage among its bleak hills. Long will the genius which created
"Jane Eyre" and "Villette" and "Shirley" delight the world; but the
remembrance of the writer's womanly virtues will linger when all these
shall have passed away.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]