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July 26, 2025 34 mins
Delve into the fascinating life of Charlotte Brontë, the eldest among the renowned Brontë sisters, recognized as pillars of English literature. Her most celebrated work, Jane Eyre, stands as an everlasting classic. Just two years post her demise, her close friend Elizabeth Gaskell penned down her biography. This compelling biography invites you to discover more about the extraordinary Charlotte Brontë. Please note that Volume 2 of this work is also available as a separate recording.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Volume one, section fourteen, of the Life of Charlotte Brontey.
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please
visit LibriVox dot org. The Life of Charlotte Brontey by
Elizabeth Clegborne Gaskell, Volume one, section fourteen, Chapter ten. Early

(00:29):
in March eighteen forty one, Miss bronte obtained her second
and last situation as a governess. This time she esteemed
herself fortunate in becoming a member of a kind, hearted
and friendly household. The master of it she especially regarded
as a valuable friend whose advice helped to guide her
in one very important step of her life. But as

(00:52):
her definite acquirements refuse, she had to eke them out
by employing her leisure time in needlework, and altogether her
position was that of bond or nursery governess, liable to
repeated and never ending calls upon her time. This description
of uncertain yet perpetual employment subject to the exercise of

(01:12):
another person's will at all hours of the day was
peculiarly trying to one whose life at home had been
full of abundant leisure idle. She never was in any
place but of the multitude of small talks, plans, duties, pleasures,
et cetera that make up most people's days, her home
life was nearly destitute. This made it possible for her

(01:34):
to go through long and deep histories of feeling and
imagination for which others, odd as it sounds, rarely have time.
This made it inevitable that later on, in her too
short career, the intensity of her feeling should wear out
her physical health. The habit of making out, which had
grown with her growth and strengthened with her strength, had

(01:57):
become a part of her nature. Exercise of her strongest
and most characteristic faculties was now out of the question.
She could not, as while she was at Miss W's
feel amidst the occupations of the day, that when evening
came she might employ herself in more congenial ways. No doubt,
all who enter upon the career of a governess have

(02:19):
to relinquish much. No doubt it must ever be a
life of sacrifice. But to Charlotte Bronte it was a
perpetual attempt to force all her faculties into a direction
for which the whole of her previous life had unfitted them. Moreover,
the little Brontes had been brought up motherless, and from
knowing nothing of the gaiety and sportiveness of childhood, from

(02:43):
never having experienced caresses or fond attentions themselves, they were
ignorant of the very nature of infancy or how to
call out its engaging qualities. Children were to them the
troublesome necessities of humanity. They had never been drawn into
contact with them in any other way. Years afterwards, when
Miss Bronty came to stay with us, she watched our

(03:04):
little girls perpetually, and I could not persuade her that
they were only average specimens of well brought up children.
She was surprised and touched by any sign of thoughtfulness
for others, of kindness to animals, or of unselfishness on
their part, and constantly maintained that she was in the
right and I in the wrong when we differed on

(03:26):
the points of their unusual excellence. All this must be
born in mind while reading the following letters, and it
must likewise be born in mind by those who surviving
her looked back upon her life. From their amount of observation,
how no distaste, no suffering, ever, made her shrink from
any course which she believed it to be her duty

(03:47):
to engage. In March third, eighteen forty one, I told
some time since that I meant to get a situation.
And when I said so, my resolution was quite fixed.
I felt that, however often I was disappointed, I had
no intention of relinquishing my efforts. After being severely baffled

(04:08):
two or three times, after a world of trouble in
the way of correspondence in interviews, I have at length
succeeded and an fairly established in my new place. The
house is not very large, but exceedingly comfortable and well regulated.
The grounds are fine and extensive. In taking the place,

(04:28):
I have made a large sacrifice in the way of salary,
in the hope of securing comfort, by which word I
do not mean to express good eating and drinking, or
warm fire or a soft bed, but the society of
cheerful faces and minds and hearts, not dug out of
a lead mine or cut from a marble quarry. My
salary is not really more than sixteen pounds per annum,

(04:52):
though it is nominally twenty pounds. But the expense of
washing will be deducted therefrom. My pupils are too in number,
a girl of eight and a boy of six. As
to my employers, you will not expect me to say
much about their characters. When I tell you that I
only arrived here yesterday. I have not the faculty of

(05:12):
telling an individual's disposition at first sight. Before I can
venture to pronounce on a character, I must see at
first under various lights and from various points of view.
All I can say, therefore is both mister and missus
blank seem to me good sort of people. I have
as yet had no cause to complain of, want of

(05:34):
considerateness or civility. My pupils are wild and unbroken, but
apparently well disposed. I wish I may be able to
say as much next time I write to you. My
earnest wish and endeavor will be to please them. If
I can but feel that I am giving satisfaction, and
if at the same time I can keep my health,

(05:54):
I shall, I hope, be moderately happy. But no one
but myself can tell how a governess's work is for me.
For no one but myself is aware how utterly averse
my whole minds and nature are for the employment. Do
not think that I fail to blame myself for this,
or that I leave any means unemployed to conquer this feeling.

(06:17):
Some of my greatest difficulties lie in things that would
appear to you comparatively trivial. I find it is so
hard to repel the rude familiarity of children. I find
it so difficult to ask either servants or mistress for
anything I want, however much I want it. It is
less pain for me to endure the greatest inconvenience than

(06:38):
to go into the kitchen to request its removal. I
am a fool. Heaven knows I cannot help it. Now
you can tell me whether it is considered improper for
governesses to ask their friends to come and see them.
I do not mean, of course, to stay, but just
for a call of an hour or two. If it
is not absolute treason. I do fervently request that you

(06:59):
will contrive. I've in some way or other to let
me have a sight of your face. Yet I feel
at the same time that I am making a very
foolish and almost impracticable demands. Yet this is only four
miles from b March twenty. First, you must excuse a
very short answer to your most welcome letter, for my

(07:21):
time is entirely occupied. Missus Blank expected a good deal
of sewing from me. I cannot so much during the
day when account of the children who require the utmost attention.
I am obliged therefore to devote the evenings to this business.
Write to me often very long letters. It will do
both of us good. This place is far better than Blank.

(07:45):
But God knows I have enough to do to keep
a good heart in the matter. What you said has
cheered me a little. I wish I could always act
according to your advice. Homesickness affects me sorely. I, like
mister Blank extreme the children are over indulged and consequently
hard at times to manage. Do do come and see me.

(08:08):
If it be a breach of etiquette, never mind, If
you can only stop an hour, come talk no more
about my forsaking you, my darling, I could not afford
to do it. I find it is not in my
nature to get on in this weary world without sympathy
and attachment in some quarter, And seldom indeed do we
find it. It is too great a treasure to be

(08:30):
ever wantonly thrown away when once secured, Miss Bronte had
not been many weeks in her new situation before she
had a proof of the kind hearted hospitality of her employers.
Mister Blank wrote to her father and urgently invited him
to come and make acquaintance with his daughter's new home

(08:51):
by spending a week with her in it. And Missus
Blank expressed great regrets when one of miss Bronte's friends
drove up to the house to leave a letter or
arshall without entering. So she found that all her friends
might freely visit her, and that her father would be
received with especial gladness. She thankfully acknowledged this kindness in

(09:12):
writing to urge her friends afresh to come and see her,
which she accordingly did June eighteen forty one. You can
hardly fancy it possible. I dare say that I cannot
find a quarter of an hour to scribble a note in.
But it is so, And when a note is written,
it has to be carried a mile to the post,

(09:34):
and that consumes nearly an hour, which is a large
portion of the day. Mister and Missus Blank have been
gone a week. I heard from them this morning. No
time is fixed for their return but I hope it
will not be delayed long, or I shall miss the
chance of seeing Anne this vacation. She came home, I understand,

(09:54):
last Wednesday, and is only to be allowed three weeks
vacation because the family she is wa are going to Scarborough.
I should like to see her to judge for myself
of the state of her health. I dare not trust
any other person's report. No one seems nute enough in
their observations. I should very much have liked you to

(10:15):
have seen her. I have got on very well with
the servants and children so far. Yet it is dreary,
solitary work. You can tell as well as me the
lonely feeling of being without a companion. Soon after this
was written, mister and missus Blank returned in time to

(10:35):
allow Charlotte to go and look after Anne's health, which,
as she found, to her intense anxiety, was far from strong.
What could she do to nurse and cherish up this
little sister, the youngest of them all? Apprehension about her
brought up once more the idea of keeping a school.
If by this means they three could live together and

(10:56):
maintain themselves, all might go well. They would have some
time of their own in which to try again and
yet again at that literary career, which, in spite of
all baffling difficulties, was never quite set aside as an
ultimate object. But far the strongest motive with Charlotte was
the conviction that Anne's health was so delicate that it

(11:17):
required a degree of tending which none but her sister
could give. Thus she wrote, during those Midsummer holidays, Howorth,
July eighteenth, eighteen forty one, we waited long and anxiously
for you. On the Thursday that you promised to come.
I quite wearied my eyes with watching from the window,

(11:39):
eye glass in hand, and sometimes spectacles on nose. However,
you are not to blame. And as to disappointment, why
all must suffer disappointment at some period or other of
their lives. But a hundred things I had to say
to you will now be forgotten and never said. There

(11:59):
is a projectching in this house which both Emily and
I anxiously wished to discuss with you. The project is
yet in its infancy, hardly peeping from its shell. And
whether it will ever become out of fine full fledged chicken,
or will turn attle and die before it cheaps is
one of those considerations that are but dimly revealed by

(12:22):
the oracles of futurity. Now, don't be non pluced by
all this metaphorical mystery. I talk of a plain and
everyday occurrence, though in delphic style, I wrap up the
information in figures of speech concerning eggs, chickens, et cetera, etc.
To come to the point, Papa and Aunt talk by

(12:44):
fits and starts of our id este Emily, Anne and
myself commencing a school. I have often, you know, said
how much I wished such a thing, but I never
could conceive where the capital was to come from. From
making some such a speculation. I was well aware, indeed,
that Aunt had money, but I always considered that she

(13:08):
was the last person who would offer alone for the
purpose in question. Alone. However, she has offered, or rather
intimates that she perhaps will offer, in case pupils can
be secured, an eligible situation obtained, et cetera. This sounds
very fair, but still there are matters to be considered,
which threw something of a damp upon the scheme. I

(13:31):
do not expect that Aunt will think more than one
hundred and fifty pounds in such a venture, And would
it be possible to establish a respectable, not by any
means a showy school, and to commence housekeeping with a
capital of only that amount. Propound the question to your
sister if you think she can answer it. If not,

(13:51):
don't say a word on the subjects. As to getting
into debt, that is a thing we could none of
us reconcile our minds to a moment. We do not
care how modest, how humble, our commencement be, so it
be made on shore grounds and have a safe foundation.
In thinking of all possible and impossible places where we

(14:13):
could establish a school. I have thought of Burlington, or
rather of the neighborhood of Burlington. Do you remember whether
there was any other school there besides that of Miss Blanks.
This is, of course a perfectly crude and random idea.
There are a hundred reasons why it should be an
impracticable one. We have no connections, no acquaintances there, It

(14:37):
is far from home, et cetera. Still, I fancy the
ground in the east riding is less fully occupied than
in the west. Much inquiry and consideration will be necessary,
of course, before any place is decided on, and I
fear much time will elapse before any plan is executed.

(14:57):
Write as soon as you can, I shall not lea
leave my present situation to my future prospects. Assume a
more fixed and definite aspect. A fortnight afterwards, we see
that the seed has been sown, which was to grow
up into a plan materially influencing her future life. August seventh,

(15:17):
eighteen forty one. This is Saturday evening. I have put
the children to bed. Now I am going to sit
down and answer your letter. I am again by myself
housekeeper and governess, for mister and Missus Blank are staying
at Blank to speak truth. Though I am solitary while

(15:39):
they are away, it is still by far the happiest
part of my time. The children are under decent control,
the servants are very observant and attentive to me, and
the occasional absence of the Master and Mistress relieves me
from the duty of always endeavoring to seem cheerful and conversible.
Martha Blank, it appears, is in the way of enjoying

(16:00):
great advantages. So is Mary. For you will be surprised
to hear that she is returning immediately to the continent
with her brother, not however, to stay there, but to
take a month's tour and recreation. I have had a
long letter from Mary and a packet containing a present
of a very handsome black silk scarf and a pair

(16:21):
of beautiful kid gloves bought at Brussels. Of course, I
was in one sense pleased with the gifts. Please that
they should think of me so far off amidst the
excitements of one of the most splendid capitals of Europe.
And yet it felt irksome to accept it. I should
think Mary and Martha have not more than sufficient pocket
money to supply themselves. I wish they had testified their

(16:45):
regard by a less expensive token. Mary's letters spoke of
some of the pictures and cathedrals she had seen, pictures,
the most exquisite, cathedrals, the most venerable. I hardly know
what swelled to my throat as I read her letter.
Such a vehement impatience of restraint and steady work, such
a strong wish for wings, wings such as wealth can furnish.

(17:08):
Such an urgent thirst to see, to know, to learn
something internal seemed to expand bodily. For a minute. I
was tantalized by the consciousness of faculties unexercised. Then all
collapsed and I despaired, My dear, I would hardly make
that confession to any one but yourself, and to you

(17:29):
rather in a letter than vivvose. These rebellious and absurd
emotions were only momentary. I quelled them in five minutes.
I hope they will not revive, for they were acutely painful.
No further steps have been taken about the project I
mentioned to you, nor probably will be for the present.

(17:50):
But Emily and Anne and I keep it in view.
It is our polar star, and we look to it
in all circumstances of despondency. I begin to say, suspect,
I am writing in a strain which will make you
think I am unhappy. This is far from being the case.
On the contrary, I know my place is a favorable
one for a governess. What dismays and haunts me sometimes

(18:13):
is a conviction that I have no natural knack for
my vocation. If teaching only were requisite, it would be
smooth and easy. But it is the living in other
people's houses, the estrangement from one's real character, the adoption
of a cold, rigid, apathetic exterior that is painful. You
will not mention our school project at present. A project

(18:36):
not actually commenced is always uncertain. Write to me often,
my dear. Now you know your letters are valued, your
loving child, as you choose to call me so C
B P. S. I am well in health, don't fancy
I am not. But I have one aching feeling at

(18:59):
my heart. Must allude to it, though I had resolved
not to. It is about Anne. She has so much
to endure, far far more than I ever had. When
my thoughts turned to her, they always see her as
a patient, persecuted stranger. I know what concealed susceptibility is
in her nature. When her feelings are wounded. I wish

(19:22):
I could be with her to administer a little balm.
She is more lonely, less gifted with the power of
making friends even than I am. Drop the subject. She
could bear much for herself, but she could not patiently
bear the sorrow of others, especially of her sisters, and
again of the two sisters. The idea of the little

(19:44):
gentle youngest suffering in lonely patience was insupportable to her.
Something must be done, no matter if the desired end
were far away. All time was lost in which she
was not making progress, however slow towards it. To have
a school was to have some portion of the daily leisure, uncontrolled,

(20:06):
but by her own sense of duty. It was for
the three sisters, loving each other with so passionate an affection,
to be together under one roof, and yet earning their
own subsistence. Above all, it was to have the power
of watching over these two, whose life and happiness were
ever to Charlotte far more than her own. But no

(20:26):
trembling impatience should lead her to take an unwise step.
In haste. She inquired in every direction she could as
to the chances which a new school might have of success.
In all, there seemed more establishments like the one which
the sisters wished to set up than could be supported
what was to be done. Superior advantages must be offered.

(20:49):
But how they themselves abounded in thought, power and information.
But these are qualifications scarcely fit to be inserted in
a prospectus of French. They knew something enough to read
it fluently, but hardly enough to teach it in competition
with natives or professional masters. Emily and Anne had some

(21:10):
knowledge of music, but here again, it was doubtful whether
without more instruction they could engage to give lessons in it.
Just about this time Miss Blank was thinking of relinquishing
her school at Dewsberry Moore, and offered to give it
up in favor of her old pupils. The Brontees, a

(21:30):
sister of hers, had taken the active management since the
time when Charlotte was a teacher, but the number of
pupils had diminished, and if the Bronochies undertook it they
would have to try and work it up to its
former state of prosperity. This again would require advantages on
their part, which they did not at present possess, but
which Charlotte caught a glimpse of. She resolved to follow

(21:54):
the clue and never to rest till she had reached
a successful issue. With a forced calm of a suppressed
eagerness that sends a glow desire through every word of
the following letter, she wrote to her aunt. Thus, Dear Aunt,
September twenty ninth, eighteen forty one, I have heard nothing

(22:15):
of Miss w yet since I wrote to her intimating
that I would accept her offer. I cannot conjecture the
reason of this long silence unless some unforeseen impediment has
occurred in concluding the bargain. Meantime, a plan has been
suggested and approved by mister and Missus Blank, the father
and mother of her pupils, and others, which I wish

(22:38):
now to impart to you. My friends recommend me, if
I desire to secure permanent success, to delay commencing the
school for six months longer, and by all means to contrive,
by hook or by crook, to spend the intervening time
in some school in the continent. They say, schools in
England are so numerous, competition so great, that without some

(23:01):
step towards detaining superiority, we shall probably have a very
hard struggle and may fail in the ends. They say moreover,
that the loan of a hundred pounds, which you have
been so kind as to offer us, will perhaps not
be all required now, as Miss Blank will lend us
the furniture, and that if the speculation is intended to

(23:22):
be a good and successful one, half the psalm at
least ought to be laid out in the manner I
have mentioned, thereby ensuring a more speedy repayment both of
interest and principle. I would not go to France or
to Paris. I would go to Brussels in Belgium. The
cost of the journey there, at the dearest rait of traveling,

(23:45):
would be five pounds. Living is there little more than
half as dear as it is in England's, and the
facilities for education are equal or superior to any other
place in Europe. In half a year I could acquire
a thorough familiarity with French, I could improve greatly in Italian,
and even get a dash of German. I e. Providing

(24:06):
my health continued as good as it is now. Mary
is now staying at Brussels at a first rate establishment there.
I should not think of going to the Chateau de Cockleburg,
where she is resident, as the terms are much too high.
But if I wrote to her, she, with the assistance
of missus Jenkins, the wife of the British Chaplain, would

(24:26):
be able to secure me a cheap, decent residence and
respectable protection. I should have the opportunity of seeing her frequently.
She would make me acquainted with the city, and with
the assistance of her cousins, I should probably be introduced
to connections far more improving, polished and cultivated than any
I have yet known. These are advantages which would turn

(24:51):
to real accounts when we actually commenced a school as
if Emily could share them with me, we could take
a footing in the world afterwards, which we can never
do now. I say Emily instead of Anne, for Anne
might take her turn at some future period if our
school answered. I feel certain while I am writing that

(25:11):
you will see the propriety of what I say. You
always like to use your money to the best advantage.
You are not fond of making shabby purchases. When you
do confer a favor, it is often done in style
and depend upon it fifty pounds or a hundred pounds.
Thus laid out would be well employed. Of course, I
know no other friend in the world to whom I

(25:33):
could apply on this subject, except yourself. I feel an
absolute conviction that if this advantage were allowed us, it
would be the making of us for life. Papa will
perhaps think it a wild and ambitious scheme, but whoever
rose in the world without ambition. When he left Ireland
to go to Cambridge University, he was as ambitious as

(25:54):
I am. Now. I want us all to get on.
I know we have talents, and I want them to
be turned to account. I look to you, Aunt, to
help us. I think you will not refuse. I know
if you consent, it shall not be my fault if
you ever repent of your kindness. This letter was written

(26:14):
from the house in which she was residing as governess.
It was some little time before an answer came. Much
had to be talked over between the father and aunt
in Haworth Parsonage. At last consent was given then, and
not till then she confided her plan to an intimate friend.
She was not one to talk over much about any

(26:35):
project while it remained uncertain, to speak about her labor
in any direction while its result was doubtful. November second,
eighteen forty one. Now let us begin to quarrel. In
the first place, I must consider whether I will commence
operations on the defensive or the offensive the defensive, I think,

(26:57):
you say, and I see plainly that your feelings have
been hurt by an apparent want of confidence on my part.
You heard from others of Miss W's overtures before I
communicated them to you myself. This is true. I was
deliberating on plans important to my future prospects. I never
exchanged a letter with you on the subject true. Again,

(27:19):
this appears strange conduct to a friend near and dear,
long known and never found wanting most true. I cannot
give you my excuses for this behavior. This word excuse
implies confession of a fault, and I do not feel
that I have been in fault. The plain fact is

(27:40):
I was not, and am not now certain of my destiny.
On the contrary, I have been most uncertain, perplexed with
contradictory schemes and proposals. My time, as I have often
told you, is fully occupied. Yet I had many letters
to write, which it was absolutely necessary should be written.

(28:01):
I knew it would avail nothing to write to you
then to say I was in doubt, an uncertainty, hoping, this,
fearing that anxious, eagerly desirous to do what seemed impossible
to be done. When I thought of you in that
busy interval, it was to resolve that you should know
all when my way was clear and my grand and attained,

(28:23):
if I could, I would always work in silence and obscurity,
and that my efforts be known by their results. Miss
w did most kindly propose that I should come to
Dowsbury More and attempt to revide the school her sister
had relinquished. She offered me the use of her furniture.
At first I received the proposal cordially and prepared to

(28:45):
do my utmost to bring about success. But a fire
was kindled in my very heart which I could not quench.
I so longed to increase my attainments, to become something
better than I am. A glimpse of what I felt
I showed to you in one of my formers, only,
a glimpse. Mary cast oil upon the flames encouraged me,

(29:06):
and in her own strong, energetic language, heartens me on.
I longed to go to Brussels, but how could I
get there? I wished for one, at least of my
sisters to share the advantage with me. I fixed on Emily.
She deserved the reward. I knew how could the point
be managed. In extreme excitement, I wrote a letter home

(29:27):
which carried the day. I made an appeal to Aunt
for assistance, which was answered by consent. Things are not
settled yet, it is sufficient to say we have a
chance of going for half a year. Dewsbury More is relinquished,
perhaps fortunately so. In my secret soul. I believe there

(29:47):
is no cause to regret it. My plans for the
future are bounded to this intention. If I once get
to Brussels, and if my health is spared, I will
do my best to make the utmost of every advantage
that shall within my reach. When the half years expired,
I will do what I can. Believe me, though I

(30:07):
was born in April, the month of cloud and sunshine,
I am not changeful. My spirits are unequal, and sometimes
I speak vehemently, and sometimes I say nothing at all.
But I have a steady regard for you. And if
you will let the cloud and shower pass by, be shore.
The sun is always behind, obscured, but still existing. At Christmas,

(30:30):
she left her situation after a parting with her employers,
which seems to have affected and touched her greatly. They
only made too much of me, was her remark. After
leaving his family, I did not deserve it. All four
children hope to meet together at their father's house this December.

(30:52):
Branwell expected to have a short leave of absence from
his employment as a clerk on the Leeds and Manchester Railway,
in which he had been a gaged for five months.
Anne arrived before Christmas Day. She had rendered herself so
valuable in her difficult situation that her employers vehemently urged
her to return, although she had announced her resolution to

(31:14):
leave them, partly on accounts of the harsh treatment she
had received, and partly because her stay at home during
her sister's absence in Belgium seemed desirable when the age
of the three remaining inhabitants of the parsonage was taken
into consideration. After some correspondence and much talking over plans
at home, it seemed better in consequence of letters which

(31:38):
they received from Brussels giving a discouraging account of the
schools there, that Charlotte and Emily should go to an
institution at Lily in the north of France, which was
highly recommended by Baptist Noel and the other clergymen. Indeed,
at the end of January it was arranged that they
were to set off for this place in three weeks,
under the escort of a French lady then visiting in London.

(32:02):
The terms were fifty pounds each pupil for board and
French alone, but a separate room was to be allowed
for this sum. Without this indulgence it was lower. Charlotte writes,
January twentieth, eighteen forty two. I consider it kind an
aunt to consent to an extra sum for a separate room.

(32:25):
We shall find it a great privilege. In many ways.
I regret the change from Brussels to Lily on many accounts,
chiefly that I shall not see Martha. Mary has been
indefatigably kind in providing me with information. She has grudged
no labor, and scarcely any expense to that ends. Mary's
price is above Ruby's. I have, in fact two friends,

(32:48):
you and her stanch and true, in whose faith and
sincerity I have as strong a belief as I have
in the Bible. I have bothered you both especially, but
you always get the tongs and heap coals of fire
upon my head. I have had letters to write lately,
to Brussels, to Lily, and to London. I have lots

(33:10):
of chemises, nightowns, pocket handkerchiefs and pockets to make, besides
clothes to repair. I have been every week since I
came home expecting to see branwell, and he has never
been able to get over. Yet we fully expect him, however,
next Saturday. Under these circumstances, How can I go visiting

(33:31):
you tantalize me to death with talking of conversations by
the fireside. Depend upon it we are not to have
any such for many a long month to come. I
get an interesting impression of old age upon my face.
And when you see me next, I shall certainly wear
caps and spectacles. End of section fourteen. Recording by Katie Riley,

(33:56):
March two thousand nine,
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