at going it would be
under his heaviest displeasure.' George, in great indignation,
pressed the question fully: but all was vain ... and I am left in this
position ... to go, if I please, with his displeasure over me, (which
after what you have said and after what Mr. Kenyon has said, and after
what my own conscience and deepest moral convictions say aloud, I
would unhesitatingly do at this hour!) and necessarily run the risk of
exposing my sister and brother to that same displeasure ... from which
risk I shrink and fall back and feel that to incur it, is impossible.
Dear Mr. Kenyon has been here and we have been talking--and he sees
what I see ... that I am justified in going myself, but not in
bringing others into difficulty. The very kindness and goodness with
which they desire me (both my sisters) 'not to think of them,'
naturally makes me think more of them. And so, tell me that I am not
wrong in taking up my chain again and acquiescing in this hard
necessity. The bitterest 'fact' of all is, that I had believed Papa to
have loved me more than he obviously does: but I never regret
knowledge ... I mean I never would _un_know anything ... even were it
the taste of the apples by the Dead sea--and this must be accepted
like the rest. In the meantime your letter comes--and if I could seem
to be very unhappy after reading it ... why it would be 'all pretence'
on my part, believe me. Can you care for me so much ... _you_? Then
_that_ is light enough to account for all the shadows, and to make
them almost unregarded--the shadows of the life behind. Moreover dear
Occy is somewhat better--with a pulse only at ninety: and the doctors
declare that visitors may come to the house without any manner of
danger. Or I should not trust to your theories--no, indeed: it was not
that I expected you to be afraid, but that _I_ was afraid--and if I am
not ashamed for _that_, why at least I am, for being _lache_ about
Wednesday, when you thought of hurrying back from Paris only for it!
You _could_ think _that_!--You _can_ care for me so much!--(I come to
it again!) When I hold some words to my eyes ... such as these in
this letter ... I can see nothing beyond them ... no evil, no want.
There _is_ no evil and no want. Am I wrong in the decision about
Italy? Could I do otherwise? I had courage and to spare--but the
question, you see, did not regard myself wholly. For the rest, the
'unforbidden country' lies within these four walls. Madeira was