found reflection. He went
to his private diary, and after many pauses, which he varied only by
dipping his pen, letting it dry, wiping it on his sleeve, and then
dipping it again, he took the following note of events:--

'January 25.--Mr. Manston has just seen me for the third time on the
subject of his lost wife. There have been these peculiarities attending
the three interviews:--

'The first. My visitor, whilst expressing by words his great anxiety to
do everything for her recovery, showed plainly by his bearing that he
was convinced he should never see her again.

'The second. He had left off feigning anxiety to do rightly by his first
wife, and honestly asked after Cytherea's welfare.

'The third (and most remarkable). He seemed to have lost all
consistency. Whilst expressing his love for Cytherea (which certainly is
strong) and evincing the usual indifference to the first Mrs. Manston's
fate, he was unable to conceal the intensity of his eagerness for me to
advise him to _advertise again_ for her.'

A week after the second, the third advertisement was inserted. A
paragraph was attached, which stated that this would be the last time
the announcement would appear.

3. THE FIRST OF FEBRUARY

At this, the eleventh hour, the postman brought a letter for Manston,
directed in a woman's hand.

A bachelor friend of the steward's, Mr. Dickson by name, who was
somewhat of a chatterer--plenus rimarum--and who boasted of an endless
string of acquaintances, had come over from Casterbridge the preceding
day by invitation--an invitation which had been a pleasant surprise
to Dickson himself, insomuch that Manston, as a rule, voted him a bore
almost to his face. He had stayed over the night, and was sitting at
breakfast with his host when the important missive arrived.

Manston did not attempt to conceal the subject of the letter, or the
name of the writer. First glancing the pages through, he read aloud as
follows:--

'"MY HUSBAND,--I implore your forgiveness.

'"During the last thirteen months I have repeated to myself a hundred
times that you should never discover what I voluntarily tell you now,
namely, that I am alive and in perfect health.

'"I have seen all your advertisements. Nothing but your persistence
has won me round. Surely, I thought, he _must_ love me still. Why else
should he try to win back a woman who, faithful unto death as she will
be, can, in a social sense, aid him towards acquiring nothi