ral,
and death too, at least in this neighbourhood.--Ever yours,

'C. B.'

She 'tried again' but with just as little success. In March 1841 she
entered the family of a Mr. White of Upperwood House, Rawdon.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'UPPERWOOD HOUSE, _April_ 1_st_, 1841.

'MY DEAR NELL,--It is twelve o'clock at night, but I must just write
to you a word before I go to bed. If you think I am going to refuse
your invitation, or if you sent it me with that idea, you're
mistaken. As soon as I read your shabby little note, I gathered up
my spirits directly, walked on the impulse of the moment into Mrs.
White's presence, popped the question, and for two minutes received
no answer. Will she refuse me when I work so hard for her? thought
I. "Ye-e-es" was said in a reluctant, cold tone. "Thank you, m'am,"
said I, with extreme cordiality, and was marching from the room when
she recalled me with: "You'd better go on Saturday afternoon then,
when the children have holiday, and if you return in time for them to
have all their lessons on Monday morning, I don't see that much will
be lost." You _are_ a genuine Turk, thought I, but again I assented.
Saturday after next, then, is the day appointed--_not next Saturday_,
_mind_. I do not quite know whether the offer about the gig is not
entirely out of your own head or if George has given his consent to
it--whether that consent has not been wrung from him by the most
persevering and irresistible teasing on the part of a certain young
person of my acquaintance. I make no manner of doubt that if he does
send the conveyance (as Miss Wooler used to denominate all wheeled
vehicles) it will be to his own extreme detriment and inconvenience,
but for once in my life I'll not mind this, or bother my head about
it. I'll come--God knows with a thankful and joyful heart--glad of a
day's reprieve from labour. If you don't send the gig I'll walk.
Now mind, I am not coming to Brookroyd with the idea of dissuading
Mary Taylor from going to New Zealand. I've said everything I mean
to say on that subject, and she has a perfect right to decide for
herself. I am coming to taste the pleasure of liberty, a bit of
pleasant congenial talk, and a sight o