CHAPTER ONE

A Discovery

Our story begins in the autumn of 1827, taking place in the countryside of England. The story is written as a letter from a young man, named Gilbert Markham, to his friend, Halford, explaining the story of a mysterious woman, Mrs Graham, who has recently moved into the neighbourhood with her young son, Arthur, and her maid, Rachel. As the story continues, a secret of Mrs Graham's is discovered, as Mr Markham becomes a dear friend of the lady neighbour.

My father, as you know, was a wealthy farmer, and as he desired that I continue in his position, I soon took the job myself, but not willingly. I felt that my talents were for something better than farming. My mother had always told me I would do great things one day, but my father strongly advised me to continue in that quiet occupation, and one day I would give that precious land to my children to continue.

"Well!—An honest hard-working farmer is one of the most useful members of society, and if I am attentive to my occupation, I will benefit not only my family, but mankind, as well—therefore, my life's work will contribute to society."

These thoughts reminded me of my occupation's importance, but as I was working in the fields, I would look into the warm houses nearby, I wonder if my effort was truly important. However, I was young then, only twenty-four, and did not have the understanding of the world I now have.

As I returned home late one evening, I saw my sister, Rose, with her friendly brown eyes and pink cheeks. She is, I know, a beautiful, young girl; still as lovely as the first day you saw her. I did not know then that in a few years, she would be the wife of someone who would become a dear friend to me.

That evening, as usual, I came into the sitting room, where my mother was sitting.

"Well! Here they both are," cried my mother, looking around at my sister and I. "Now, shut the door and come to the fireplace while Rose gets the tea ready. I'm sure you're hungry—and tell me what you've been doing today. I like to know what my children have been doing."

"I've been working in the fields, no easy work today."

"That's my brave boy! And Fergus, what have you been doing?"

"Hunting for badgers."

And here he explained in detail his technique in finding badgers. My mother pretended to listen with great attention.

"It's time you should do something else, Fergus," I said, after he finished his explanation.

"What can I do?" replied he, "my mother won't let me go to the sea or enter the army. So, I'll do nothing except annoy you all, and you will gladly let me leave this house soon."

"Now, take your tea," said Rose, "and I'll tell you what I've been doing. I've gone to visit the Wilsons; and it's a pity you didn't go with me, Gilbert, because Eliza Millward was there!"

"Well! How is she?"

"Oh, she's fine! I'm not going to tell you about her; I have an important piece of news I heard there. Someone has been living at Wildfell Hall for over a week!"

"Impossible!" cried my mother.

"It has, indeed!—And by a single lady!"

"The house is in terrible condition!"

"She has two or three rooms that she uses; and there she lives alone, except for an old woman as a servant!"

"Jane Wilson has seen her. She and her mother went to see the new neighbour when they discovered she had come. The woman is called Mrs Graham, and she is in mourning, as her husband has recently died. She is quite young, perhaps only twenty-five, and so shy; she refused to discuss her past! The woman was quite impolite, and showed no interest in talking to Miss Wilson or her mother. But, Eliza Millward says her father plans to visit the neighbour soon. He is quite worried, as she did not come to church on Sunday."

The next day, my mother and Rose went to visit the new neighbour.

"She was quite pretty. You must see her, Gilbert. You will say she is a perfect beauty. She looks quite like Eliza Millward," Rose told her brother.

"Well, I'm sure there are many others more beautiful than Eliza, but none as charming. If she were more perfect, she would be less interesting," I said.

The following Sunday, I saw the mysterious Mrs Graham for the first time, as she entered the church. She was tall, lady-like, dressed in black. Her hair was dark, and her face quite clear and pale. She was quite a beauty.

Now, Halford, before I finish this letter, I'll tell you who Eliza Millward was. She was the minister's younger daughter, and quite a charming young woman, indeed. I was quite fond of her, as she knew, although I never told her of my feelings, as my mother believed Eliza was not suitable for me.

Her sister, Mary, was several years older, taller, and was quite sensible, and plain. She patiently cared for her mother during her last terrible illness, taking care of the house and family, from that time till now. She was trusted by her father, loved by all dogs, cats, children, and poor people, and ignored by everyone else.

The minister, Michael Millward, was a tall, elder gentleman. He trusted his own opinions, and no others, and believed that anyone who does not fully agree with his views must be ignorant.

I will tell you of two others that I mentioned before ending this letter. They are Mrs Wilson and her daughter. Mrs Wilson's husband was a wealthy farmer, and died many years ago. Mrs Wilson's main pastime seemed to be telling secrets she found out, as she was quite boring herself. She had two sons, Robert, a country farmer with no manners, and Richard, a student preparing for college, after which he'll become a minister.

Their sister, Jane, was a young lady of many talents. Many thought she was quite beautiful, although, she did not interest me. There were many young men interested in her, but she refused them all. She was determined to find a wealthy gentleman. Recently, she has shown an interest in Mr Lawrence, whose family had lived at Wildfell Hall, but moved to a more modern mansion fifteen years ago, in a nearby town.

Now Halford, I will say goodbye to you now.

Yours,

Gilbert Markham

(end of section)