Well, I don’t think it is of much use to argue any more—I have told you honestly what I think.... Thank you anyhow for listening to me patiently and answering me. I do not like to vex you after all this— you have been and are very good to me. You ask me to wait a little while and consider. I have considered well, and I do not believe any further thought would alter my opinion. However I will promise you for this term only (not ceding the principle) not to take any fees, but if they come (which I do not yet know) to return them as a free gift to the College. If at the end of this term I still hold my opinion, I trust you not to oppose my determination again. Remember and understand, Daddy, I do promise this simply and only because you wish it, and not because in the least degree my mind is one whit altered on the point. I trust you to meet me half way, and not be in any degree grieved if I resume my intention next term. Goodbye darling, Ever your loving child, SOPHY.” “Saturday night. Feb. 5th 1859. DEAREST, ... Tom’s being a _man_ makes _all_ the difference, he has just taken the _plain path of duty_. I am very pleased with the spirit in which you write, darling, but I must be sincere, which I should not be if I told you that I had the shadow of a doubt that you ought not to be a _paid_ teacher.... Ever, dearest, Your affect. Father, T. JEX-BLAKE.” So closes this delightful correspondence. It was not to be supposed that she should have no regrets. In her diary she says: “Feb. 13th.... Like a fool I have consented to give up the fees for this term only—though I am miserably poor. I am sorry. It was foolish. It only defers the struggle.” The Norfolk cousins were not a little impressed by the new life S. J.-B. was making for herself, though it was not to be expected that they should all take so enlightened a view of it as Miss Evans did. “You seem,” writes Cousin Ellie, “to be spending rather a jolly time of it, but still it seems to me rather queer that a lot of girls should walk about London when and where they please. I don’t think you would come to any harm, but I am sure there are many that would.” And Sarah with whom “one does not connect the idea of angel,” “What glorious fun a girl might have if inclined, but you are as steady as a rock. No fear of my dear old man doing anything giddy. My dearest treasure, Goodnight.” We gather from subsequent correspondence that the frivolity of this letter brought down a very severe reprimand from its recipient. Elinor was the first to pay a visit to the unknown world, and she writes a long account of it to the eager Sarah: