moderately happy.  But no one but myself can tell how hard a governess’s work is to me—­for no one but myself is aware how utterly averse my whole mind 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.  Some of my greatest difficulties lie in things that would appear to you comparatively trivial.  I find it 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 to go into the kitchen to request its removal.  I am a fool.  Heaven knows I cannot help it!

“Now can you 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 will contrive, 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 demand; yet this is only four miles from B—–!”

* * * * *

   “March 21st.

“You must excuse a very short answer to your most welcome letter; for my time is entirely occupied.  Mrs. —–­ expected a good deal of sewing from me.  I cannot sew much during the day, on 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 —–­, 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.  Home-sickness affects me sorely.  I like Mr. —–­ extremely.  The children are over-indulged, and consequently hard at times to manage. Do, do, do come and see me; 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 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.  Mr. —–­ wrote to her father, and urgently invited him to come and make acquaintance with his daughter’s new home, by spending a week with her in it; and Mrs. —–­ expressed great regret when one of Miss Bronte’s friends drove up to the house to leave a letter or parcel, 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 writing to urge her friend afresh to come and see her; which she accordingly did.