Then her pen paused; that was not quite honest, and she began again:
I ought to have just seen you before you went yesterday, and I must
ask your pardon that I did not. I just want to say this, that I am
more sorry for you than I can possibly tell you, and I ask you to
say to yourself, and to keep on saying to yourself, that it was in
no way your fault. Also perhaps you may like to know how entirely I
recognise that, and so, I know, will he.
You will wish, of course, to hear about him. He is going on very
well, though up to now they have kept him under morphia. He will be
quite blind, though. We must all try to make that affliction as
light as possible for him. And I want so much to make you promise
not to blame yourself. Please don't; there is no blame. It was
outside the control of any of us.
I will write again and tell you how he gets on.--Your affectionate
cousin,