My Heart Is Too Thoroughly

And Why Should He Interest Himself At All In My Moral And Intellectual Capacities: What Is It To Him What I Think And Feel?' I Asked Myself. And My Heart Throbbed In Answer To The Question.

I Had Been Seasoned By Adversity, And Tutored By Experience, And I Longed To Redeem My Lost Honour In The Eyes Of Those Whose Opinion Was More Than That Of All The World To Me.

Our Children, Edward, Agnes, And Little Mary, Promise Well; Their Education, For The Time Being, Is Chiefly Committed To Me; And They Shall Want No Good Thing That A Mother's Care Can Give. Our Modest Income Is Amply Sufficient For Our Requirements; And By Practising The Economy We Learnt In Harder Times, And Never Attempting To Imitate Our Richer Neighbours, We Manage Not Only To Enjoy Comfort And Contentment Ourselves, But To Have Every Year Something To Lay By For Our Children, And Something To Give To Those Who Need It. And Now I Think I Have Said Sufficient.

He Is Very Fond Of Me, Almost Too Fond. I Could Do With Less Caressing And More Rationality. I Should Like To Be Less Of A Pet And More Of A Friend, If I Might Choose; But I Won't Complain Of That: I Am Only Afraid His Affection Loses In Depth Where It Gains In Ardour. I Sometimes Liken It To A Fire Of Dry Twigs And Branches Compared With One Of Solid Coal, Very Bright And Hot; But If It Should Burn Itself Out And Leave Nothing But Ashes Behind.

My Heart Is Too Thoroughly Dried To Be Broken In A Hurry, And I Mean To Live As Long As I Can.