here. Your aunt has been telling him things. He knows that I care
for you and what it all meant yesterday. It has been a very painful
experience for him, as you may imagine, and the way he took it made
me like him very much. It's because of that that I'm writing to you
now. The thing that tormented me most was the idea that, perhaps,
with all my deficiencies, I could give you more than he could. I
hadn't a very high opinion of him, you know. I felt you might be
safer with me. But now, from what I've seen, I'm sure that he is the
man for you. I understand how you could have loved him for all your
life. He's not as big as you are, nor as strong; he hasn't your
character; but you'll make him grow--and no one else can, for he
loves you with his whole heart, and he's a broken man.

'Dear Helen, I know what it feels like now. You're withered and
burnt out. It's lasted too long to be felt any longer and you
believe it's dead. But it isn't dead, Helen; I'm sure it isn't.
Things like that don't die unless something else comes and takes
their place. It's withered, but it will grow again. See him; be kind
to him, and you'll find out. And even if you can't find out yet,
even if you think it's all over, look at it this way. You know our
talk about marriage and how you were willing to marry me, not loving
me; well, look at it this way, for his sake, and for mine. He needs
you more than anything; he'll be nothing, or less and less, without
you; with you he'll be more and more. Think of his life. You've got
responsibility for that, Helen; you've let him depend on you
always--and you've got responsibility, too, for what's happened now.
You told him--I'm not blaming you--I understand--I think you were
right; but you changed things for him and made him see what he
hadn't seen before; nothing can ever be the same for him again; you
mustn't forget that; your friendship is spoiled for him, after what
you've done. So at the very least you can feel sorry for him and
feel like a mother to him, and marry him for that--as lots of women
do.

'Now I'm going to be very egotistical, but you'll know why. Think of
my life, dear Helen. We won't hide from what we know. We know that I
love you and that to give you up--even if, in a way, I had to--was
the greatest sacrifice of my life. Now, what I put to you is this