right enough, but to his character.

"I get on here after a fashion; but now that Mary D. has left
Brussels, I have nobody to speak to, for I count the Belgians as
nothing. Sometimes I ask myself how long shall I stay here; but as
yet I have only asked the question; I have not answered it. However,
when I have acquired as much German as I think fit, I think I shall
pack up bag and baggage and depart. Twinges of home-sickness cut me
to the heart, every now and then. To-day the weather is glaring, and
I am stupified with a bad cold and headache. I have nothing to tell
you. One day is like another in this place. I know you, living in
the country, can hardly believe it is possible life can be monotonous
in the centre of a brilliant capital like Brussels; but so it is. I
feel it most on holidays, when all the girls and teachers go out to
visit, and it sometimes happens that I am left, during several hours,
quite alone, with four great desolate schoolrooms at my disposition. I
try to read, I try to write; but in vain. I then wander about from
room to room, but the silence and loneliness of all the house weighs
down one's spirits like lead. You will hardly believe that Madame
Heger (good and kind as I have described her) never comes near me on
these occasions. I own, I was astonished the first time I was left
alone thus; when everybody else was enjoying the pleasures of a fete
day with their friends, and she knew I was quite by myself, and never
took the least notice of me. Yet, I understand, she praises me very
much to everybody, and says what excellent lessons I give. She is not
colder to me than she is to the other teachers; but they are less
dependent on her than I am. They have relations and acquaintances in
Bruxelles. You remember the letter she wrote me, when I was in
England? How kind and affectionate that was? is it not odd? In the
meantime, the complaints I make at present are a sort of relief which
I permit myself. In all other respects I am well satisfied with my
position, and you may say so to people who inquire after me (if any
one does). Write to me, dear, whenever you can. You do a good deed
when you send me a letter, for you comfort a very desolate heart."

One of the reasons for the silent estrangement between Madame Heger and
Miss Bronte, in the second year of her residence at Brussels, is to b