were noisily recounting the events of the race-course. Nor could I again
that evening obtain a moment's conversation with her. She spoke to me,
indeed, and very kindly; but once only did I catch her eye, when I was
speaking to some one else--the glance was rapidly withdrawn, but it
seemed rather sorrowful than cold.
I was busy with Hanmer the next morning before breakfast, when Dick
Phillips made his appearance, and informed us that the "strangers" had
made up an eleven for the cricket match, and that we were to play at
ten. He was a sort of live circular, despatched to get all parties in
readiness.
"Oh! I have something for you from Clara," said he to me, as he was
leaving; "the words of a song she promised you, I believe."
I opened the sealed envelope, saw that it was _not_ a song, and left
Hanmer somewhat abruptly. When I was alone, I read the following:--
"DEAR MR HAWTHORNE,--Possibly you may have been told that I
have, before now, done things which people call strange--that
is, contrary to some arbitrary notions which are to supersede
our natural sense of right and wrong. But never, until now, did
I follow the dictates of my own feelings in opposition to
conventional rules, with the painful uncertainty as to the
propriety of such a course, which I now feel. And if I had less
confidence than I have in your honour and your kindness, or
less esteem for your character, or less anxiety for your
happiness, I would not write to you now. But I feel that, if
you are what I wish to believe you, it is right that you should
be at once undeceived as to my position. Others should have
done it, perhaps--it would have spared me much. Whether your
attentions to me are in sport or earnest, they must cease. I
have no right to listen to such words as yours last night--my
heart and hand are engaged to one who deserves better from
me than the levity which alone could have placed me in the
position from which I thus painfully extricate myself. For any
fault on my part, I thus make bitter atonement. I wish you
health and happiness, and now let this save us both from
further misunderstanding.
"C."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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