you, dear.

Ever yours affectionately,
FANNY.

Wednesday, December 17th, 1845.

I found at last the little cross you have made over your house in the
engraving of the St. Leonard's Esplanade, and when I had found it
wondered how I came to miss it; but the truth is it was a blot, and the
truth is I took it for nothing more....

You know I think, in spite of the French proverb, "_Toute verite n'est
pas bonne a dire_," that I think all truth _is_ to be told; that is the
teller's part: how it is received, or what effect it has, is the
receiver's.... I think to suspect a person of wrongdoing more painful
than to know that they have done wrong. In the first place, uncertainty
upon the character of those we love--the most vital thing in life to us,
except our own character--is the worst of all uncertainties. Your trust
is shaken, your faith destroyed; belief, that soul of love, is
disturbed, and, in addition to all this, as long as any element of
uncertainty remains you have the alternate misery of suspecting yourself
of unworthy, wicked, and base thoughts, of unjust surmises and
uncharitable conclusions. When you know that those you love have sinned
against you, your way is open and comparatively easy, for you have only
to forgive them. I believe I am less sorry to find that A---- has
wronged me by her actions than I should have been to find that I had
wronged her by my thoughts.... I would a great deal rather have to
forgive her for her misconduct, and pity her for her misery, poor woman!
than blame myself for the wickedness of unworthily suspecting her. I am
really relieved to know that, at any rate, I have not done her
injustice.

I have been about all day, getting my money and passport, and paying
bills and last visits. I go on Saturday to Southampton, and cross to
Havre. I do not know why Emily fancied I was to be at Bannisters
to-night, but that last week, when my father suddenly asked me how soon
I could start, I replied, "In twenty-four hours," and then wrote to
Emily that possibly I might be at Southampton to-day. I go by diligence
from Havre to Rouen, by railroad from Rouen to Paris, in the same
_coupe_ of the diligence which is put bodily--the diligence, I
mean--upon the rails; thence to Orleans by post-road, ditto; thence to
Chalons-sur-Saone, ditto, down the Saone to Lyons,