and I want them to be turned to account.  I look to you, aunt, to help us.  I think you will not refuse.  I know, if you consent, it shall not be my fault if you ever repent your kindness.”

This letter was written from the house in which she was residing as governess.  It was some little time before an answer came.  Much had to be talked over between the father and aunt in Haworth Parsonage.  At last consent was given.  Then, and not till then, she confided her plan to an intimate friend.  She was not one to talk over-much about any project, while it remained uncertain—­to speak about her labour, in any direction, while its result was doubtful.

   “Nov. 2nd, 1841.

“Now let us begin to quarrel.  In the first place, I must consider whether I will commence operations on the defensive, or the offensive.  The defensive, I think.  You say, and I see plainly, that your feelings have been hurt by an apparent want of confidence on my part.  You heard from others of Miss W—–­’s overtures before I communicated them to you myself.  This is true.  I was deliberating on plans important to my future prospects.  I never exchanged a letter with you on the subject.  True again.  This appears strange conduct to a friend, near and dear, long-known, and never found wanting.  Most true.  I cannot give you my excuses for this behaviour; this word excuse implies confession of a fault, and I do not feel that I have been in fault.  The plain fact is, I was not, I am not now, certain of my destiny.  On the contrary, I have been most uncertain, perplexed with contradictory schemes and proposals.  My time, as I have often told you, is fully occupied; yet I had many letters to write, which it was absolutely necessary should be written.  I knew it would avail nothing to write to you then to say I was in doubt and uncertainty—­hoping this, fearing that, anxious, eagerly desirous to do what seemed impossible to be done.  When I thought of you in that busy interval, it was to resolve, that you should know all when my way was clear, and my grand end attained.  If I could, I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.  Miss W—–­ did most kindly propose that I should come to Dewsbury Moor and attempt to revive the school her sister had relinquished.  She offered me the use of her furniture.  At first, I received the proposal cordially, and prepared to do my utmost to bring about success; but a fire was kindled in my very heart, which I could not quench.  I so longed to increase my attainments—­to become something better than I am; a glimpse of what I felt, I showed to you in one of my former letters—­only a glimpse; Mary cast oil upon the flames—­encouraged me, and in her own strong, energetic language, heartened me on.  I longed to go to Brussels; but how could I get there?  I wished for one, at least, of my sisters to share the advantage with me.