Chapter xiv. The Woman’s Answer.
Thus far I have written of myself with perfect frankness, and, I think I may fairly add, with some courage as well. My frankness fails me and my courage fails me when I look back to my husband’s farewell letter, and try to recall the storm of contending passions that it roused in my mind. No! I cannot tell the truth about myself — I dare not tell the truth about myself — at that terrible time. Men! consult your observation of women, and imagine what I felt; women! look into your own hearts, and see what I felt, for yourselves.
What I did, when my mind was quiet again, is an easier matter to deal with. I answered my husband’s letter. My reply to him shall appear in these pages. It will show, in some degree, what effect (of the lasting sort) his desertion o
