are pinched for time and materials, that it is useless to write a
few lines; be assured, a few lines are very acceptable as far as
they go; and though I like long letters, I would by no means have
you to make a task of writing them. . . . I really should like
you to come to Haworth, before I again go to B----. And it is
natural and right that I should have this wish. To keep
friendship in proper order, the balance of good offices must be
preserved, otherwise a disquieting and anxious feeling creeps in,
and destroys mutual comfort. In summer and in fine weather, your
visit here might be much better managed than in winter. We could
go out more, be more independent of the house and of our room.
Branwell has been conducting himself very badly lately. I expect,
from the extravagance of his behaviour, and from mysterious hints
he drops (for he never will speak out plainly), that we shall be
hearing news of fresh debts contracted by him soon. My health is
better: I lay the blame of its feebleness on the cold weather,
more than on an uneasy mind."

"March 24th, 1847.

"It is at Haworth, if all be well, that we must next see each
other again. I owe you a grudge for giving Miss M---- some very
exaggerated account about my not being well, and setting her on
to urge my leaving home as quite a duty. I'll take care not to
tell you next time, when I think I am looking specially old and
ugly; as if people could not have that privilege, without being
supposed to be at the last gasp! I shall be thirty-one next
birthday. My youth is gone like a dream; and very little use have
I ever made of it. What have I done these last thirty years?
Precious little."