Gaskell, as her
"one friend in Haworth," and is the "working-man" mentioned in her
memoirs, who wrote a little _critique_ on Jane Eyre, that came to the
notice of the authoress and afforded her great pleasure. To talk of the
Bronte girls--to express his admiration of them to one who had come from
America to visit their home and grave, was to him a great gratification.
He told me how he used to meet them on the moors--how they were accustomed
to stroll all three together, and talk and gather flowers; then how Emily
died, and Anne and Charlotte were left to pace the familiar path
arm-in-arm; then how they took Anne away to the sea-side, whence she never
returned, while Charlotte would take her lonely moorland walk, rapt in sad
contemplation. Sometimes he would meet her on these occasions, and if he
passed by without attracting her attention, she would chide him when told
of it afterward. She was always so kind, so good-hearted, and with those
she knew, so really sociable.
Sunday, with my new friend, I attended the church. The storm of the day
before had cleared away, and even the place of graves looked bright and
cheerful. The churchyard was crowded with country people from miles
around, who sat carelessly on the long, flat stones that so thickly
covered the ground, waiting for the opening services, while the parish
bell kept up a merry peal.
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