rely express my own
honest opinion, formed against my earnest desire. I do not lay it down
as law for others, though, of course, I believe that many others would
come to the same conclusion. It appears to me that the story is one that
cannot possibly be told within the compass to which you have limited
yourself. The three principal people are, every one of them, in the
wrong with the reader, and you cannot put any of them right, without
making the story extend over a longer space of time, and without
anatomising the souls of the actors more slowly and carefully. Nothing
would justify the departure of Alice, but her having some strong reason
to believe that in taking that step, _she saved her lover_. In your
intentions as to that lover's transfer of his affections to Eleanor, I
descry a striking truth; but I think it confusedly wrought out, and all
but certain to fail in expressing itself. Eleanor, I regard as forced
and overstrained. The natural result is, that she carries a train of
anti-climax after her. I particularly notice this at the point when she
thinks she is going to be drowned.

The whole idea of the story is sufficiently difficult to require the
most exact truth and the greatest knowledge and skill in the colouring
throughout. In this respect I have no doubt of its being extremely
defective. The people do not talk as such people would; and the little
subtle touches of description which, by making the country house and the
general scene real, would give an air of reality to the people (much to
be desired) are altogether wanting. The more you set yourself to the
illustration of your heroine's passionate nature, the more indispensable
this attendant atmosphere of truth becomes. It would, in a manner,
oblige the reader to believe in her. Whereas, for ever exploding like a
great firework without any background, she glares and wheels and hisses,
and goes out, and has lighted nothing.

Lastly, I fear she is too convulsive from beginning to end. Pray
reconsider, from this point of view, her brow, and her eyes, and her
drawing herself up to her full height, and her being a perfumed
presence, and her floating into rooms, also her asking people how they
dare, and the like, on small provocation. When she hears her music being
played, I think she is particularly objectionable.

I have a strong belief that if you keep this story by you three or four
years, you will form an opinion of it not greatly differing from mine.