'DEAR ELLEN,--You probably know that another letter has been received
from Mary Taylor. It is, however, possible that your absence from
home will have prevented your seeing it, so I will give you a sketch
of its contents. It was written at about 4 degrees N. of the
Equator. The first part of the letter contained an account of their
landing at Santiago. Her health at that time was very good, and her
spirits seemed excellent. They had had contrary winds at first
setting out, but their voyage was then prosperous. In the latter
portion of the letter she complains of the excessive heat, and says
she lives chiefly on oranges; but still she was well, and freer from
headache and other ailments than any other person on board. The
receipt of this letter will have relieved all her friends from a
weight of anxiety. I am uneasy about what you say respecting the
French newspapers--do you mean to intimate that you have received
none? I have despatched them regularly. Emily and I keep them
usually three days, sometimes only two, and then send them forward to
you. I see by the cards you sent, and also by the newspaper, that
Henry is at last married. How did you like your office of
bridesmaid? and how do you like your new sister and her family? You
must write to me as soon as you can, and give me an _observant_
account of everything.

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'MANCHESTER, _September_ 13_th_, 1846.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Papa thinks his own progress rather slow, but the
doctor affirms he is getting on very well. He complains of extreme
weakness and soreness in the eye, but I suppose that is to be
expected for some time to come. He is still kept in the dark, but
now sits up the greater part of the day, and is allowed a little fire
in the room, from the light of which he is carefully screened.

'By this time you will have got Mary's letters; most interesting they
are, and she is in her element because she is where she has a
toilsome task to perform, an important improvement to effect, a weak
vessel to strengthen. You ask if I had any enjoyment here; in truth,
I can't say I have, and I long to get home, though, unhappily, home
is not now a place of complete rest. It i