ates which she has conveyed pretty distinctly
to the world. The Haworth curate brought his clerical friends and
neighbours about the place, and for a time the incursions of these, near
the parsonage tea-time, formed occurrences by which the quietness of the
life there was varied, sometimes pleasantly, sometimes disagreeably. The
little adventure recorded at the end of the following letter is uncommon
in the lot of most women, and is a testimony in this case to the unusual
power of attraction--though so plain in feature--which Charlotte
possessed, when she let herself go in the happiness and freedom of home.

"August 4th, 1839.

"The Liverpool journey is yet a matter of talk, a sort of castle in
the air; but, between you and me, I fancy it is very doubtful whether
it will ever assume a more solid shape. Aunt--like many other elderly
people--likes to talk of such things; but when it comes to putting
them into actual execution, she rather falls off. Such being the
case, I think you and I had better adhere to our first plan of going
somewhere together independently of other people. I have got leave to
accompany you for a week--at the utmost a fortnight--but no more.
Where do you wish to go? Burlington, I should think, from what M.
says, would be as eligible a place as any. When do you set off?
Arrange all these things according to your convenience; I shall start
no objections. The idea of seeing the sea--of being near it--watching
its changes by sunrise, sunset, moonlight, and noon-day--in calm,
perhaps in storm--fills and satisfies my mind. I shall be
discontented at nothing. And then I am not to be with a set of people
with whom I have nothing in common--who would be nuisances and bores:
but with you, whom I like and know, and who knows me.

"I have an odd circumstance to relate to you: prepare for a hearty
laugh! The other day, Mr. ---, a vicar, came to spend the day with
us, bringing with him his own curate. The latter gentleman, by name
Mr. B., is a young Irish clergyman, fresh from Dublin University. It
was the first time we had any of us seen him, but, however, after the
manner of his countrymen, he soon made himself at home. His character
quickly appeared in his conversation; witty, lively, ardent, clever
too; but deficient in the dignity and discretion of an Englishman. At
home, you know, I talk with ease, and am never