It was like you to receive with such kindness the news of my marriage.
A less generous person would have been displeased, that, when we had
been drawn so together,--when we had talked so freely, and you had
shown towards me such sweet friendship,--I had not told you. Often did
I long to do so, but I had, for reasons that seemed important, made
a law to myself to keep this secret as rigidly as possible, up to a
certain moment. That moment came. Its decisions were not such as I had
hoped; but it left me, at least, without that painful burden, which
I trust never to bear again. Nature keeps so many secrets, that I
had supposed the moral writers exaggerated the dangers and plagues of
keeping them; but they cannot exaggerate. All that can be said about
mine is, that I at least acted out, with, to me, tragic thoroughness,
"The wonder, a woman keeps a secret." As to my not telling _you_, I
can merely say, that I was keeping the information from my family and
dearest friends at home; and, had you remained near me a very little
later, you would have been the very first person to whom I should have
spoken, as you would have been the first, on this side of the water,
to whom I should have written, had I known where to address you. Yet
I hardly hoped for your sympathy, dear W----. I am very glad if I
have it. May brotherly love ever be returned unto you in like measure.
Ossoli desires his love and respect to be testified to you both.