roduced on my mind.

I call the papers submitted to me a correspondence, because the greater
part of Philip's letters exhibit notes in pencil, evidently added by
Helena. These express, for the most part, the interpretation which she
had placed on passages that perplexed or displeased her; and they have,
as Philip's rejoinders show, been employed as materials when she wrote
her replies.

On reflection, I find myself troubled by complexities and contradictions
in the view presented of this young man's character. To decide
positively whether I can justify to myself and to my regard for Eunice,
an attempt to reunite the lovers, requires more time for consideration
than I can reasonably expect that Helena's patience will allow. Having
a quiet hour or two still before me, I have determined to make extracts
from the letters for my own use; with the intention of referring to
them while I am still in doubt which way my decision ought to incline. I
shall present them here, to speak for themselves. Is there any objection
to this? None that I can see.

In the first place, those extracts have a value of their own. They add
necessary information to the present history of events.

In the second place, I am under no obligation to Mr. Gracedieu's
daughter which forbids me to make use of her portfolio. I told her
that I only consented to receive it, under reserve of my own right of
action--and her assent to that stipulation was expressed in the clearest
terms.

EXTRACTS FROM MR. PHILIP DUNBOYNE'S LETTERS.

First Extract.

You blame me, dear Helena, for not having paid proper attention to the
questions put to me in your last letter. I have only been waiting to
make up my mind, before I replied.

First question: Do I think it advisable that you should write to my
father? No, my dear; I beg you will defer writing, until you hear from
me again.

Second question: Considering that he is still a stranger to you, is
there any harm in your asking me what sort of man my father is? No
harm, my sweet one; but, as you will presently see, I am afraid you have
addressed yourself to the wrong person.

My father is kind, in his own odd way--and learned, and rich--a more
high-minded and honorable man (as I have every reason to believe)
doesn't live. But if you ask me which he prefers, his books or his son,
I hope I do him no injustice when I answer, his books. His reading and
his writing are obstacles between us which I have never been able