h for _you_, dearest;
when you know that _I_ know your common fault to be the undue
magnifying of everything that comes from me, and I am always
complaining of it outwardly and inwardly. That suddenly I should set
about desiring you to be more grateful,--even for so great a boon as
an old penholder,--would be a more astounding change than any to be
sought or seen in a prime minister.

Another mistake you made concerning Henrietta and her opinion--and
there's no use nor comfort in leaving you in it. Henrietta says that
the 'anger would not be so formidable after all'! Poor dearest
Henrietta, who trembles at the least bending of the brows ... who has
less courage than I, and the same views of the future! What she
referred to, was simply the infrequency of the visits. 'Why was I
afraid,' she said--'where was the danger? who would be the
_informer_?'--Well! I will not say any more. It is just natural that
you, in your circumstances and associations, should be unable to see
what I have seen from the beginning--only you will not hereafter
reproach me, in the most secret of your thoughts, for not having told
you plainly. If I could have told you with greater plainness I should
blame myself (and I do not) because it is not an opinion I have, but a
perception. I see, I know. The result ... the end of all ... perhaps
now and then I see _that_ too ... in the 'lucid moments' which are not
the happiest for anybody. Remember, in all cases, that I shall not
repent of any part of our past intercourse; and that, therefore, when
the time for decision comes, you will be free to look at the question
as if you saw it then for the first moment, without being hampered by
considerations about 'all those yesterdays.'

For _him_ ... he would rather see me dead at his foot than yield the
point: and he will say so, and mean it, and persist in the meaning.

Do you ever wonder at me ... that I should write such things, and have
written others so different? _I have thought that in myself very
often._ Insincerity and injustice may seem the two ends, while I
occupy the straight betwixt two--and I should not like you to doubt
how this may be! Sometimes I have begun to show you the truth, and
torn the paper; I _could_ not. Yet now again I am borne on to tell
you, ... to save you from some thoughts which you cannot help perhaps.

There has been no insincerity--nor is there injustice. I believe, I am
certain, I have loved him better than the rest of hi