bout to die.[4]

What am I writing?--I must collect my thoughts. I do not know that any
will peruse these pages except you, my friend, who will receive them
at my death. I do not address them to you alone because it will give
me pleasure to dwell upon our friendship in a way that would be
needless if you alone read what I shall write. I shall relate my tale
therefore as if I wrote for strangers. You have often asked me the
cause of my solitary life; my tears; and above all of my impenetrable
and unkind silence. In life I dared not; in death I unveil the
mystery. Others will toss these pages lightly over: to you, Woodville,
kind, affectionate friend, they will be dear--the precious memorials
of a heart-broken girl who, dying, is still warmed by gratitude
towards you:[5] your tears will fall on the words that record my
misfortunes; I know they will--and while I have life I thank you for
your sympathy.

But enough of this. I will begin my tale: it is my last task, and I
hope I have strength sufficient to fulfill it. I record no crimes; my
faults may easily be pardoned; for they proceeded not from evil motive
but from want of judgement; and I believe few would say that they
could, by a different conduct and superior wisdom, have avoided the
misfortunes to which I am the victim. My fate has been governed by
necessity, a hideous necessity. It required hands stronger than mine;
stronger I do believe than any human force to break the thick,
adamantine chain that has bound me, once breathing nothing but joy,
ever possessed by a warm love & delight in goodness,--to misery only
to be ended, and now about to be ended, in death. But I forget myself,
my tale is yet untold. I will pause a few moments, wipe my dim eyes,
and endeavour to lose the present obscure but heavy feeling of
unhappiness in the more acute emotions of the past.[6]

I was born in England. My father was a man of rank:[7] he had lost his
father early, and was educated by a weak mother with all the
indulgence she thought due to a nobleman of wealth. He was sent to
Eton and afterwards to college; & allowed from childhood the free use
of large sums of money; thus enjoying from his earliest youth the
independance which a boy with these advantages, always acquires at a
public school.

Under the influence of these circumstances his passions found a deep
soil wherein they might strike their roots and flourish either as
flowers or weeds as was their nature. By being alw