With the gentleman who employed me, or with his family, I could not become familiar; there was nothing in common between us. With you it was different; I was interested in you, and soon learned that you lived with a sick mother, of whom you were the sole support, and that you were a lady. There is no need for me to dwell upon the commencement and continuation of a friendship, which began in respect and mutual esteem, and ended in love. You were poor; I was comparatively rich; and I am afraid my dear, that during the first few weeks I led you to believe that my circumstances were better than they really were. That is the usual effect produced by an extravagant nature. I paid court to you, and we engaged ourselves to each other. Then I began to take a more serious view of life. I had a dear one to work for; there was no prospect open to me in England; and the mystery in which I was compelled to shroud myself, coupled with the fact that London and other places in my native country were closed to me, caused me to turn my thoughts to America. In that new land I could make a home for you; in that new land, with but moderate good fortune, we might settle and live a happy life. Your mother and yourself were contented with the plan, and encouraged me in it. So I threw up my situation, bade you good-bye, and left for the wonderful country which one day is to rule the world. Before my departure I wrote to my father. Except upon the envelope I did not address him by his name. I simply told him that I was quitting England, that I had kept and would keep my oath, and that if he desired to write to me at any time he could send his letter to the New York Post Office.