* * * * *
HOMERTON, 19_th_ _March_ 1839.
The paperhangers and painters have left; the carpets will be laid and the
furniture arranged to-day. I trust to see you when I come home on the
22nd instant. This will nearly give you the week you desired. I shall
be late at the Bank on the 22nd, but if you are fatigued with your
journey there is no reason why you should not retire to rest, and we will
meet in the morning.
* * * * *
BLACKDEEP, 21_st_ _March_ 1839.
I had hoped for a little delay, for I shrank from the necessity of
announcing my resolve, although it has for some time been fixed. I shall
not return. The reason for my refusal shall be given with perfect
sincerity. I do not love you, and you do not love me. I ought not to
have married you, and I can but plead the blindness of youth, which for
you is a poor excuse. I shall be punished for the remainder of my days,
and not the least part of the punishment will be that I have done you a
grievous injury. Worse, however—ten thousand times worse—would it be for
both of us if we were to continue chained together in apathy or hatred.
I would die for you this moment to make good what you have lost through
me, but to live with you as your wife would be a crime of which I dare
not be guilty. This is all, and this is enough.
* * * * *
HOMERTON, 24_th_ _March_ 1839.
Madam,—I am not surprised at the contents of your letter of the 21st
instant, nor am I surprised that your determination should have been made
known to me from your mother’s house. I have no doubt that she has done
her best to inflame you against me. How she contrives to reconcile with
her religion her advice to her daughter to break a divine law, I will not
inquire. I am not going to remonstrate with you; I will not humiliate
myself by asking you to reconsider your resolution. I will, however,
remind you of one or two facts, and point out to you the consequences of
your action, so that hereafter you may be unable to plead you were not
forewarned.
You will please bear in mind that _you_ have abandoned _me_; I have not
abandoned you. You disappointed me: my house was not managed in
accordance with my wishes, but I was prepared to accept the consequences
of what I did deliberately and I desired to avoid open rupture. I hoped
that in time you would learn by experience that the maxims which control
my conduct rest on a solid basis; that I was at least to be esteemed, and
that we might live together in harmony. I repeat, you have cast me off,
though I was willing you should stay.
You confess you have done me a wrong, but have you reflected how great
that wrong is? I have no legal grounds for divorce, and you therefore
prevent me from marrying again. You have damaged my position in the
Bank. Many of my colleagues, envious of my success, will naturally seize
their opportunity and propagate false reports, and I therefore inform you
that I shall require of you a document which my solicitor will prepare,
completely exonerating me. This will be necessary for my protection. A
Bank manager’s reputation is extremely sensitive, and a notorious
infringement of any article of the moral code would in many quarters
cause his commercial honesty to be suspected.
You allege that you are sincere, but I can hardly acquit you of
hypocrisy. Your sentimental excuse for deserting me is suspicious.
When the document just mentioned has been signed, I shall send a copy of
it to the rector of your parish. Without it he will know nothing but
what you and your mother tell him, and he will be in a false position.
I hereby caution you that I shall not lose sight of you, and if at any
time proof of improper relationship should be obtained, I shall take
advantage of it.