The rest
was her English confided to a critic who would have good reason to be
merciful:

'The night has come that writes the chapter of the day. My father has
had his interview with his head-forester to learn what has befallen from
the storm in the forest. All has not been told him! That shall not be
delayed beyond to-morrow.

'I am hurried to it. And I had the thought that it hung perhaps at
the very end of my life among the coloured leaves, the strokes of
sunset--that then it would be known! or if earlier, distant from this
strange imperative Now. But we have our personal freedom now, and I have
learnt from minutes what I did mean to seek from years, and from our
forest what I hoped that change of scene, travel, experience, would
teach me. Yet I was right in my intention. It was a discreet and a just
meaning I had. For things will not go smoothly for him at once: he will
have his hard battle. He is proved: he has passed his most brave ordeal.
But I! Shall I see him put to it and not certainly know myself? Even
thus I reasoned. One cannot study without knowing that our human nature
is most frail. Daily the body changes, daily the mind--why not the
heart? I did design to travel and converse with various persons.

'Pardon it to one who knew that she would require super-feminine power
of decision to resolve that she would dispose of herself!

'I heard of Harry Richmond before I saw him. My curiosity to behold the
two fair boys of the sailor kingdom set me whipping my pony after them
that day so remote, which is always yesterday. My thoughts followed you,
and I wondered--does he mean to be a distinguished countryman of his
Nelson? or a man of learning? Then many an argument with "my Professor,"
until--for so it will ever be--the weaker creature did succumb in the
open controversy, and thought her thoughts to herself. Contempt of
England gained on me still. But when I lay withered, though so young, by
the sea-shore, his country's ancient grandeur insisted, and I dreamed
of Harry Richmond, imagining that I had been false to my childhood.
You stood before me, dearest. You were kind: you were strong, and had
a gentle voice. Our souls were caught together on the sea. Do you
recollect my slip in the speaking of Lucy Sibley's marriage?--"We change
countries." At that moment I smelt salt air, which would bring you to my
sight and touch were you and I divided let me not think how far.

'To-morrow I tell the prince, my father,