I am happy to report that the journey into Yorkshire was without incident and I am safety installed with my Brontë cousins in their neat little parsonage at Haworth. My uncle welcomed me most handsomely and the three girls appear, so far, very charming. I have not met my cousin, Branwell, as he is away at present. My cousins seem most eager for me to meet him.
Cousin Anne and I are not the best of friends. Did not appreciate my “teacher at a school” joke. Don’t know why.
Showed Emily a rough draft of Sense and Sensibility; seemed shocked when I placed the Dashwood family in a cottage by the sea and not on a moor. She has taken quite a fancy to Colonel Brandon, though. Asked if he was a foundling of obscure birth. Asks me constantly when I will add ghost, lunatic, and dark, narrow passages to story.
Charlotte read out to us last evening. Oh how I roared with laughter at picture of her Mr Rochester with mad wife in attic. When I pointed out to her that nobody likes an ugly hero, she stormed from the room and has not spoken three words together to me all day.
Branwell has arrived. Lord, help me.