r. But you may
see them all now. There is one. You may read that first. While I was
writing it, I was determined that that should go.' Then she handed him
the sheet of paper which contained the threat of the horsewhip.

'I am glad you did not send that,' he said.

'I meant it.'

'But you have changed your mind?'

'Is there anything in it that seems to you to be unreasonable? Speak
out and tell me.'

'I am thinking of you, not of myself.'

'Think of me, then. Is there anything said there which the usage to
which I have been subjected does not justify?'

'You ask me questions which I cannot answer. I do not think that under
any provocation a woman should use a horsewhip.'

'It is certainly more comfortable for gentlemen,--who amuse
themselves,--that women should have that opinion. But, upon my word, I
don't know what to say about that. As long as there are men to fight
for women, it may be well to leave the fighting to the men. But when a
woman has no one to help her, is she to bear everything without turning
upon those who ill-use her? Shall a woman be flayed alive because it is
unfeminine in her to fight for her own skin? What is the good of being
--feminine, as you call it? Have you asked yourself that? That men may
be attracted, I should say. But if a woman finds that men only take
advantage of her assumed weakness, shall she not throw it off? If she
be treated as prey, shall she not fight as a beast of prey? Oh, no;--it
is so unfeminine! I also, Paul, had thought of that. The charm of
womanly weakness presented itself to my mind in a soft moment,--and
then I wrote this other letter. You may as well see them all.' And so
she handed him the scrap which had been written at Lowestoft, and he
read that also.

He could hardly finish it, because of the tears which filled his eyes.
But, having mastered its contents, he came across the room and threw
himself on his knees at her feet, sobbing. 'I have not sent it, you
know,' she said. 'I only show it you that you may see how my mind has
been at work.'

'It hurts me more than the other,' he replied.

'Nay, I would not hurt you,--not at this moment. Sometimes I feel that
I could tear you limb from limb, so great is my disappointment, so
ungovernable my rage! Why,--why should I be such a victim? Why should
life be an utter blank to me, while you have everything before you?
There, you have seen them all. Which will you have?'

'I cannot now take that other as the e