They were both written in the same hand. I took Grace’s up to her as I was confident she would enjoy the news it contained. ‘You read it.’ Grace shook the paper at me; it was the first time I saw her show a small sign of weakness. ‘I don’t need to read it. It is the same as mine. It tells us that thirty thousand pounds is deposited in our names in the Bank of Knaresborough.’ Grace did a jig of joy. We had feared that Mr Rochester might find a way to cancel our agreement now that the secret of his first marriage was out. I had misjudged him; as a man of honour he had kept his word. ‘You must write to your son,’ I told Grace, ‘to let him know the money is safely in our hands. Then he can pay the rent on a house for us. We could be away from here in three weeks. We none of us have much to pack.’ I turned to Bertha. ‘You have your dowry back.’ She ignored me. ‘Bertha happy. Bertha has baby.’ She beamed down at the infant on her breast. Sometimes I envied her; she lived like a lily of the field, careless of all the practical details that fretted and worried the rest of us.
