e was too feeble to explain;
nor was her mind strong enough to envisage all the
consequences--to me, as well as to you--of what she proposed.
No doubt it tortured her to think of you as growing up under
the cloud of her name and fate, and with her natural and
tragic impetuosity she asked what she did.

"'One day--there will come some one--who will love her--in
spite of me. Then you and he--shall tell her.'

"I pointed out to her that such a course would mean that I
must change my name and live abroad. Her eyes assented, with
a look of relief. She knew that I had already developed the
tastes of the nomad and the sun-worshipper, that I was a
student, happy in books and solitude; and I have no doubt
that the picture her mind formed at the moment of some such
hidden life together, as we have actually led, you and I,
since her death, soothed and consoled her. With her intense
and poetic imagination, she knew well what had happened to
us, as well as to herself.

"So here we are in this hermitage; and except in a few
passing perfunctory words, I have never spoken to you of her.
Whether what I have done is wise I cannot tell. I could not
help it; and if I had broken my word, remorse would have
killed me. I shall not die, however, without telling you--if
only I have warning enough.

"But supposing there is no warning--then all that I write
now, and much else, will be in your hands some day. There are
moments when I feel a rush of comfort at the notion that I
may never have to watch your face as you hear the story;
there are others when the longing to hold you--child as you
still are--against my heart, and feel your tears--your tears
for her--mingling with mine, almost sweeps me off my feet.

"And when you grow older my task in all its aspects will be
harder still. You have inherited her beauty on a larger,
ampler scale, and the time will come for lovers. You will
hear of your mother then for the first time; my mind trembles
even now at the thought of it. For the story may work out
ill, or well, in a hundred different ways; and what we did in
love may one day be seen as an error and folly, avenging
itself not on us, but on our child.

"Nevertheless, my Diana, if it had to be done again, it must
still be done. Your mother, be