CHAPTER XXII 307
thought of Mrs . Reed in her last moments ; I saw her disfigured and discoloured face , and heard her strangely altered voice . I mused on the funeral day , the coffin , the hearse , the black train of tenants and servants -- few was the number of relatives -- the gaping vault , the silent church , the solemn service . Then I thought of Eliza and Georgiana ; I beheld one the cynosure of a ball-room , the other the inmate of a convent cell ; and I dwelt on and analysed their separate peculiarities of person and character . The evening arrival at the great town of -- scattered these thoughts ; night gave them quite another turn : laid down on my traveller ' s bed , I left reminiscence for anticipation .
I was going back to Thornfield : but how long was I to stay there ? Not long ; of that I was sure . I had heard from Mrs . Fairfax in the interim of my absence : the party at the hall was dispersed ; Mr . Rochester had left for London three weeks ago , but he was then expected to return in a fortnight . Mrs . Fairfax surmised that he was gone to make arrangements for his wedding , as he had talked of purchasing a new carriage : she said the idea of his marrying Miss Ingram still seemed strange to her ; but from what everybody said , and from what she had herself seen , she could no longer doubt that the event would shortly take place . " You would be strangely incredulous if you did doubt it ," was my mental comment . " I don ' t doubt it ."
The question followed , " Where was I to go ?" I dreamt of Miss Ingram all the night : in a vivid morning dream I saw her closing the gates of Thornfield against me and pointing me out another road ; and Mr . Rochester looked on with his arms folded -- smiling sardonically , as it seemed , at both her and me .
I had not notified to Mrs . Fairfax the exact day of my return ; for I did not wish either car or carriage to meet me at Millcote . I proposed to walk the distance quietly by myself ; and very quietly , after leaving my box in the ostler ' s care , did I slip away from the George Inn , about six o ' clock of a June evening , and take the old road to Thornfield : a road which lay chiefly through fields , and was now little frequented .