‘In these uncertainties I put it to you whether it would not be better for us in great friendship and regret to shake hands and--part? It is not a pleasant word, but there are things which are much less pleasant than any word can be, and those we must avoid at all hazards. I do not think that your present life and my present life could amalgamate anyhow--could they? And the future is so hazy, so doubtful, with so little in it that we can rely upon--the possibilities might alter, in our favour, or against us, but no one can tell, and most probably any change would be disadvantageous. On the other hand, your life, as at present arranged, suits you very well, and my life suits me. There seems no reason why we should make ourselves uncomfortable, is there? by continuing, at the cost of much inconvenience, to contemplate changes which we do not very much desire, and which would be a very doubtful advantage if they were made. ‘This being the case--and I think, however unwilling you may be to admit it, to start with, that if you ask yourself deep down in the depths of your heart, you will find that the same doubts and questions, which have been agitating my mind, have been in yours, too--and that there is only one answer to them--don’t you think my suggestion is the best? Probably it will not be pleasant to either of us. There will be the talk and the wonderings of our friends, but what do these matter?--and what is far worse, a great crying out of our own recollections and imaginations against such a severance--but these, _I feel sure_, lie all on the surface, and if we are brave and decide upon it at once, will last as short a time as--most other feelings last in this world. ‘If you agree with me, send me just three words to say so--or six, or indeed any number of words--but don’t let us enter into explanations. Without anything more said, we both understand. ‘Your true friend in all circumstances, ‘ANNE.’