I cooled a little, indeed, and drew in towards
the latter part of the evening, because he began to season his
conversation with something of Hibernian flattery, which I did not
quite relish. However, they went away, and no more was thought about
them. A few days after I got a letter, the direction of which
puzzled me, it being in a hand I was not accustomed to see.
Evidently, it was neither from you nor Mary Taylor, my only
correspondents. Having opened and read it, it proved to be a
declaration of attachment and proposal of matrimony, expressed in the
ardent language of the sapient young Irishman! Well! thought I, I
have heard of love at first sight, but this beats all. I leave you
to guess what my answer would be, convinced that you will not do me
the injustice of guessing wrong. When we meet I'll show you the
letter. I hope you are laughing heartily. This is not like one of
my adventures, is it? It more nearly resembles Martha Taylor's. I
am certainly doomed to be an old maid. Never mind, I made up my mind
to that fate ever since I was twelve years old. Write soon.
'C. BRONTE.'
It was not many months after this that we hear the last of poor Mr.
Price.
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
'_January_ 24_th_, 1840.
Pages:
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463