, breezy
situation of Roe Head, to Dewsbury Moor, only two or three miles distant.
Her new residence was on a lower site, and the air was less exhilarating
to one bred in the wild hill-village of Haworth. Emily had gone as
teacher to a school at Halifax, where there were nearly forty pupils.

"I have had one letter from her since her departure," writes Charlotte,
on October 2nd, 1836: "it gives an appalling account of her duties; hard
labour from six in the morning to eleven at night, with only one half-
hour of exercise between. This is slavery. I fear she can never stand
it."

* * * * *

When the sisters met at home in the Christmas holidays, they talked over
their lives, and the prospect which they afforded of employment and
remuneration. They felt that it was a duty to relieve their father of
the burden of their support, if not entirely, or that of all three, at
least that of one or two; and, naturally, the lot devolved upon the elder
ones to find some occupation which would enable them to do this. They
knew that they were never likely to inherit much money. Mr. Bronte had
but a small stipend, and was both charitable and liberal. Their aunt had
an annuity of 50_l_., but it reverted to others at her death, and her
nieces had no right, and were the last persons in the world to reckon
upon her savings. What could they do? Charlotte and Emily were trying
teaching, and, as it seemed, without much success. The former, it is
true, had the happiness of having a friend for her employer, and of being
surrounded by those who knew her and loved her; but her salary was too
small for her to save out of it; and her education did not entitle her to
a larger. The sedentary and monotonous nature of the life, too, was
preying upon her health and spirits, although, with necessity "as her
mistress," she might hardly like to acknowledge this even to herself. But
Emily--that free, wild, untameable spirit, never happy nor well but on
the sweeping moors that gathered round her home--that hater of strangers,
doomed to live amongst them, and not merely to live but to slave in their
service--what Charlotte could have borne patiently for herself, she could
not bear for her sister. And yet what to do? She had once hoped that
she herself might become an artist, and so earn her livelihood; but her
eyes had failed her in the minute and useless labour which she had
imposed upon herself with a view to this end.

It was the household