She told her father, from whom she had but few secrets, that she had not only written a book any Bronte could do that but printed one, which had attained the honour of a flattering review. So saying, she gave Mr. Bronte a copy of " Jane Eyre " and left him alone to his reading and reflections.
At tea time he observed, " Girls, do you know Charlotte has written a book, and it is much better than likely." But outside the family nobody was let into the secret. This policy, adopted in pursuance of mutual promises given by the sisters one to the other, was probably not a wise one. Charlotte Bronte, though a shy woman, was not by any means a shy author. Her courage was dauntless, and she had none of that diseased vanity which causes some writers to abstain from reading hostile criticisms and to live wrapped up in their own conceit of themselves, a garment objectionable indeed, but not on the score of scantiness.