his period loved him better
than ever she had done.

A week or ten days after this three letters arrived from Bertram,
one for Caroline, one for Miss Baker, and one for Harcourt. Caroline
and her aunt had lingered in London, both doubtless in the hope that
Bertram would return. There can be little doubt now that had he
returned, and had he been anxious for the marriage, Miss Waddington
would have consented. She was becoming ill at ease, dissatisfied,
what the world calls heart-broken. Now that she was tried, she found
herself not to be so strong in her own resolves. She was not sick
from love alone; her position was altogether wretched--though she was
engaged, and persisted in adhering to her engagement, she felt and
often expressed to her aunt a presentiment that she and Bertram would
never be married.

They waited for awhile in the hope that he might return; but instead
of himself, there came three letters. Harcourt, it seemed, had
written to him, and hence arose these epistles. That to Miss Baker
was very civil and friendly. Had that come alone it would have
created no complaint. He explained to her that had he expected her
visit to London, he would have endeavoured to meet her; that he
could not now return, as he had promised to remain awhile with his
father. Sir Lionel had been unwell, and the waters of Vichy had
been recommended. He was going to Vichy with Sir Lionel, and would
not be in London till August. His plans after that were altogether
unsettled, but he would not be long in London before he came to
Littlebath. Such was his letter to Miss Baker.

To Harcourt he wrote very shortly. He was obliged to him for the
interest he took in the welfare of Miss Waddington, and for his
attention to Miss Baker. That was nearly all he said. There was not
an angry word in the letter; but, nevertheless, his friend was able
to deduce from it, short as it was, that Bertram was angry.

But on the head of his betrothed he poured out the vial of his wrath.
He had never before scolded her, had never written in an angry tone.
Now in very truth he did so. An angry letter, especially if the
writer be well loved, is so much fiercer than any angry speech, so
much more unendurable! There the words remain, scorching, not to be
explained away, not to be atoned for by a kiss, not to be softened
down by the word of love that may follow so quickly upon spoken
anger. Heaven defend me from angry letters! They should never be
written, un