The Secret Diaries of Charlotte Brontë Read Online Free PDF Page A

Nicholls again until church on Sunday, when he took his first duty as curate. As he read the prayers aloud, the congregation appeared to greatly appreciate the hearty Celtic sentiment in his manner and tone. After the service, however, he only nodded and bowed solemnly to the congregants who came up to speak to him, uttering barely a word himself.
    When I complained about this to Emily after we returned to the parsonage, Emily said, “Perhaps Mr. Nicholls is simply shy. He might share our own aversion to conversing with strangers; after all, he did only just arrive. And he does have a very nice voice.”
    “A nice voice hardly recommends a speaker,” I replied, “if he is too reserved to speak, and when he does speak, his views are arrogant and narrow-minded. I am certain he will not improve upon acquaintance.”
     
    A few weeks after Mr. Nicholls’s arrival in Haworth, I received a letter from Anne, announcing that she and Branwell would be coming home for their summer holiday from Thorp Green a week earlier than expected. Anne gave no reason for this sudden change of plan; but as her letter was delivered only a few hours before their train was due to arrive, Emily and I were obliged to set off almost immediately on the four-mile walk to Keighley to meet them.
    It was a warm, sunny, blue-skied afternoon in June; we had not seen our sister and brother since Christmas, and we both looked forward to their visit with great anticipation.
    “Here it comes,” cried Emily, rising up from the hard wooden bench at the Keighley station, as a sharp whistle announced the approach of the four o’clock train. The locomotive roared up the tracks and pulled to a stop with a sharp squealing of brakes and a great outpouring of steam. Several passengers alighted; at last I spotted Anne, and we flew to her side.
    “What a wonderful surprise,” said Emily, embracing her, “to have you home early.”
    Anne was twenty-five years old, as short and slight as I, and blessed with a sweet, appealing face and a lovely, pale complexion. Her gentle spirit shone from her violet-blue eyes, and she wore her light brown hair pulled up and back, with ringlets that fell on her neck in graceful curls. As a child, Anne had been afflicted with a lisp, which she fortunately outgrew as she matured; the debility had, however, rendered her reserved and shy. At the same time, she was possessed of a calm disposition that rarely seemed to alter, buoyed up by her deep and abiding faith in a higher spirit, and her belief in the inherent goodness of mankind. How much her beliefs had recently changed with regard to this last notion, I was soon to discover.
    When I studied Anne’s countenance now, she looked more pale than usual; when I hugged her, she felt thin and bird-like in my embrace. “Are you all right?” I asked in concern.
    “I am fine. I love your new summer dress, Charlotte. When did you make it?”
    “I finished it last week.” Although pleased with the garment, which I had constructed of pale blue silk shot through with a delicate pattern of white flowers, I was in no mood to discuss my clothing; it seemed to me that Anne had only mentioned it to distract me from the question I had posed. Before I could inquire further, however, my brother leapt down from the train car, barking orders to two porters, who brought down an old, familiar trunk onto the platform.
    “Anne!” exclaimed I in surprise. “Is that your trunk?”
    Anne nodded.
    “Why have you brought it? Oh! Are you moving home?” cried Emily happily.
    “I am. I have handed in my resignation. I will never again be returning to Thorp Green.” A look of relief crossed Anne’s countenance, but at the same time, her eyes seemed to be filled with some unspoken worry.
    “I am so glad,” said Emily, embracing Anne again. “I do not know how you stood it as long as you did.”
    I was astonished by this news. I knew Anne had been unhappy since the first day she began working as a governess