He is now grown so gloomy and
reserved that nobody seems to like him. His fellow-curates shun
trouble in that shape; the lower orders dislike it. Papa has a
perfect antipathy to him, and he, I fear, to papa. Martha hates him.
I think he might almost be _dying_ and they would not speak a
friendly word to or of him. How much of all this he deserves I can't
tell; certainly he never was agreeable or amiable, and is less so now
than ever, and alas! I do not know him well enough to be sure that
there is truth and true affection, or only rancour and corroding
disappointment at the bottom of his chagrin. In this state of things
I must be, and I am, _entirely passive_. I may be losing the purest
gem, and to me far the most precious, life can give--genuine
attachment--or I may be escaping the yoke of a morose temper. In
this doubt conscience will not suffer me to take one step in
opposition to papa's will, blended as that will is with the most
bitter and unreasonable prejudices. So I just leave the matter where
we must leave all important matters.
'Remember me kindly to all at Brookroyd, and--Believe me, yours
faithfully,
'C. BRONTE.'
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
'_May_ 16th, 1853.
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