Good-bye till Monday. Give my best
regards to Mr. Nicholls, Tabby, and Martha, and--Believe me your
affectionate daughter,
'C. BRONTE.'
CHAPTER XVII: THE REV. ARTHUR BELL NICHOLLS
Without the kindly assistance of Mr. Arthur Bell Nicholls, this book
could not have been written, and I might therefore be supposed to guide
my pen with appalling discretion in treating of the married life of
Charlotte Bronte. There are, however, no painful secrets to reveal, no
skeletons to lay bare. Mr. Nicholls's story is a very simple one; and
that it is entirely creditable to him, there is abundant evidence. Amid
the full discussion to which the lives of the Brontes have necessarily
been subjected through their ever-continuous fame, it was perhaps
inevitable that a contrary opinion should gain ground. Many of Mr.
Nicholls's relatives in his own country have frequently sighed over the
perverted statements which have obtained currency. 'It is cruel that
your uncle Arthur, the best of men, as we know, should be thus treated,'
was the comment of Mr. Nicholls's brother to his daughter after reading
an unfriendly article concerning Charlotte's husband. Yet it was not
unnatural that such an estimate should get abroad; and I may frankly
admit that until I met Mr.
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