. But
now--! Oh, dear! how would it have been if I had engaged
myself to Mr. Gilmore, and that then Walter Marrable had
come to me! I get sick when I think how near I was to
saying that I would love a man whom I never could have
loved.

Of course I used to ask myself what I should do with
myself. I suppose every woman living has to ask and to
answer that question. I used to try to think that it would
be well not to think of the outer crust of myself. What
did it matter whether things were soft to me or not?
I could do my duty. And as this man was good, and a
gentleman, and endowed with high qualities and appropriate
tastes, why should he not have the wife he wanted? I
thought that I could pretend to love him, till, after some
fashion, I should love him; but as I think of it now, all
this seems to be so horrid! I know now what to do with
myself. To be his from head to foot! To feel that nothing
done for him would be mean or distasteful! To stand at
a washtub and wash his clothes, if it were wanted. Oh,
Janet, I used to dread the time in which he would have to
put his arm round me and kiss me! I cannot tell you what I
feel now about that other he.

I know well how provoked you will be,--and it will all
come of love for me; but you cannot but own that I am
right. If you have any justice in you, write to me and
tell me that I am right.

Only that Mr. Gilmore is your great friend, and that,
therefore, just at first, Walter will not be your friend,
I would tell you more about him,--how handsome he is, how
manly, and how clever. And then his voice is like the
music of the spheres. You won't feel like being his friend
at first, but you must look forward to his being your
friend; you must love him--as I do Mr. Fenwick; and you
must tell Mr. Fenwick that he must open his heart for the
man who is to be my husband. Alas, alas! I fear it will be
long before I can go to Bullhampton. How I do wish that he
would find some nice wife to suit him!

Good bye, dearest Janet. If you are really good, you will
write me a sweet, kind, loving letter, wishing me joy.
You must know all. Aunt Sarah has refused to congratulate
me, because the income is so small. Nevertheless, we have
not quarrelled. But the income will be nothing to you,
and I do look forward to a kind word. When everything is
settled, of cou