September 6, 1788
Hello, beloved sister. How are you doing? And is the rest of my family doing fine as well? I just wanted to tell you about something delightful that I have just recently experienced, a random encounter that was very unique and very intriguing, most definitely, indeed.
You see, I was just going down a narrow pathway, back to the Thornfield Hall, when, all of a sudden, I saw a horse coming down the pathway. I thought it might have been the Gytrash that Bessie used to tell us about as kids, but it was not; a dog sprang out of the hedge, and it was much more like that mythological creature. It gave me quite a spring, and made the bones in my body bend until they were fractured wheels, until it turned out that it was just some ordinary, harmless, black-and-white dog. I was the governess of the daughter of the owner of the Hall, Mr. Rochester, so it was best for me to hurry up on there. However, considering how narrow the path was, I decided to wait until the horse had crossed the path, so I sat… waiting, waiting for Eternity to just embrace Death with open arms. All of a sudden, however, I heard a slip, a thud and a crash, as the horse had slipped over an icy surface on the pathway. The dog, which was owned by the horse’s rider, immediately rushed over to its master, and tried to help him up.
I felt worried for the man, who looked as though he were of high rank. Also, it was late night, and I was the only other person present, so I decided to go up to him, and ask him if he was alright. He said he was fine, and attempted to get up himself; I could tell, from this gesture, that he was an independent man, who hardly relied on others to get the job done, and he was successful in getting his horse to stand up. When he struggled with getting up on his own, I decided to go up to him a second time, and ask him if he was alright… but he again persisted, saying that he could do it on his own! He insisted that it was only a sprain, no broken bones, so I trusted his words, that he was just fine. He did eventually get up, and as soon as he did, his appearance could catch any random bystander’s eyes’ complete and utter attention: he had a dark complexion, a stern and heavy brow, irritated eyes and eyebrows, and seemed to be the kind of person who was past his youth, yet had not quite reached that confounded middle age. Because of these things about him, I would be shameless in helping him out unmasked, with my face as clear and light as day.
I offered my services to the man, inviting him to come with me to his home… but he said I ought to be at my home! He did ask me where I came from, to which I responded below; by below, I meant Thornfield Hall, of course. The home of Mr. Rochester, this Hall was, but I told the man that I could not tell him where he was at the moment, because I myself was not sure; I had not even met him face-to-face, yet. The man tried to scan me, but I simply told him that I was a governess, to which he responded with a request for help — a request to grab his horse’s bridle, and lead him to his master. I was terrified, but I decided to try it, anyways. Alas, I failed, but at least I tried… though, on the other hand, the man did it fast, and did it better! He then only asked me for his whip, which I handed over to him, and afterwards, he was off on his jolly, merry way, proud on his horse, with his dog following the both of them. I have to admit that this was quite an encounter; I had a lot of mixed feelings about it, but at least I got to meet somebody, and I am glad that he’s now feeling okay thanks to me (mostly thanks to him, though).
Sadly, I must say goodbye, cousin, for I must go to the Thornfield Hall as quick as a little rabbit; it is getting awfully late, anyways. Take care, though, and be sure to write your own letters to me, about what you’re up to lately. Farewell!