So
home I went, and the change has at once roused and soothed me; and I
am now, I trust, fairly in the way to be myself again.
"A calm and even mind like yours cannot conceive the feelings of the
shattered wretch who is now writing to you, when, after weeks of
mental and bodily anguish not to be described, something like peace
began to dawn again. Mary is far from well. She breathes short, has
a pain in her chest, and frequent flushings of fever. I cannot tell
you what agony these symptoms give me; they remind me too strongly of
my two sisters, whom no power of medicine could save. Martha is now
very well; she has kept in a continual flow of good humour during her
stay here, and has consequently been very fascinating . . . "
"They are making such a noise about me I cannot write any more. Mary
is playing on the piano; Martha is chattering as fast as her little
tongue can run; and Branwell is standing before her, laughing at her
vivacity."
Charlotte grew much stronger in this quiet, happy period at home. She
paid occasional visits to her two great friends, and they in return came
to Haworth. At one of their houses, I suspect, she met with the person
to whom the following letter refers--some one having a slight resemblance
to the character of "St.
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