but if you have
ceased to love me, I think you should cease to wish to be
my wife, and that you should not insist upon a marriage
simply because by doing so you would triumph over a former
objection.

Before he finished this paragraph, he thought much of Andy Gowran and
of the scene among the rocks of which he had heard. But he could not
speak of it. He had found himself unable to examine the witness who
had been brought to him, and had honestly told himself that he could
not take that charge as proved. Andy Gowran might have lied. In his
heart he believed that Andy Gowran had lied. The matter was
distasteful to him, and he would not touch it. And yet he knew that
the woman did not love him, and he longed to tell her so.

As to what we might each gain or each lose in a worldly
point of view, either by marrying or not marrying, I will
not say a word. You have rank and wealth, and therefore I
can comfort myself by thinking that if I dissuade you from
this marriage I shall rob you of neither. I acknowledge
that I wish to dissuade you, as I believe that we should
not make each other happy. As, however, I do consider that
I am bound to keep my engagement to you if you demand
that I shall do so, I leave the matter in your hands for
decision.

I am, and shall remain,

Your sincere friend,

FAWN.

He read the letter and copied it, and gave himself great credit for
the composition. He thought that it was impossible that any woman
after reading it should express a wish to become the wife of the man
who wrote it; and yet,--so he believed,--no man or woman could find
fault with him for writing it. There certainly was one view of the
case which was very distressing. How would it be with him if, after
all, she should say that she would marry him? After having given
her her choice,--having put it all in writing,--he could not again
go back from it. He would be in her power, and of what use would
his life be to him? Would Parliament, or the India Office, or the
eye of the public be able to comfort him then in the midst of his
many miseries? What could he do with a wife whom he married with a
declaration that he disliked her? With such feelings as were his, how
could he stand before a clergyman and take an oath that he would love
her and cherish her? Would she not ever be as an adder to him,--as
an adder whom it would be impossible that he should admit into his
bosom? C