The quiet, sad year stole on. The sisters were contemplating near
at hand, and for a long time, the terrible effects of talents
misused and faculties abused in the person of that brother, once
their fond darling and dearest pride. They had to cheer the poor
old father, into whose heart all trials sank the deeper, because
of the silent stoicism of his endurance. They had to watch over
his health, of which, whatever was its state, he seldom
complained. They had to save, as much as they could, the precious
remnants of his sight. They had to order the frugal household
with increased care, so as to supply wants and expenditure
utterly foreign to their self-denying natures. Though they shrank
from overmuch contact with their fellow-beings, for all whom they
met they had kind words, if few; and when kind actions were
needed, they were not spared, if the sisters at the parsonage
could render them. They visited the parish-schools duly; and
often were Charlotte's rare and brief holidays of a visit from
home shortened by her sense of the necessity of being in her
place at the Sunday-school.

In the intervals of such a life as this, "Jane Eyre" was making
progress. "The Professor" was passing slowly and heavily from
publisher to publisher. "Wuthering Heights" and "Agnes Grey" had
been accepted by another publisher, "on terms somewhat
impoverishing to the two authors;" a bargain to be alluded to
more fully hereafter. It was lying in his hands, awaiting his
pleasure for its passage through the press, during all the months
of early summer.

The piece of external brightness to which the sisters looked