several proposals of marriage, which she hastily but firmly declined. At length a curate of her father's, Mr. Nicholls, asked her hand. He had loved her for several years. She knew him well and esteemed him deeply, and, although she had never before thought of him as a lover, she felt as though she could be contented as his wife. Before accepting him, however, she consulted her father. Mr. Brontë objected, and Charlotte quietly put aside the happiness within her reach, and gave an unfavorable answer. But Mr. Brontë gradually changed his mind, and in a year's time gave his consent to the marriage; although, with characteristic perversity, he refused at the last minute to go to the church and give his daughter away.
Charlotte Brontë was married on the twenty-ninth of June, 1854. The wedding was of the quietest, but the pale, delicate little bride was very happy as she left the old church on her husband's arm, followed by the good wishes of the villagers who had gathered to see her pass. She was dressed in soft white, with no color about her save green leaves, looking, as one who was there told Mrs. Gaskell, like a snow-drop.
Her happy married life lasted but eight months. She died in March, 1855. Waking after a long delirium, she saw her husband bending above her with a face of anguish, murmuring some broken prayer that God would spare her.
"Oh!" she whispered, looking up at him, "I am not going to die, am I? He will not separate us; we have been so happy."
