Of course I was
wrong to marry him. I know that now, and I repent my sin
in sackcloth and ashes. But I did not leave him after
I married him till he had brought against me horrid
accusations,--accusations which a woman could not bear,
which, if he believed them himself, must have made it
impossible for him to live with me. Could any wife live
with a husband who declared to her face that he believed
that she had a lover? And in this very letter he says that
which almost repeats the accusation. He has asked me how I
can have dared to receive you, and desires me never either
to see you or to wish to see you again. And yet he sent
for you to Loughlinter before you came, in order that you
might act as a friend between us. How could I possibly
return to a man whose power of judgment has so absolutely
left him?
I have a conscience in the matter, a conscience that
is very far from being at ease. I have done wrong, and
have shipwrecked every hope in this world.
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