410 MY LIFE 



as before, and make another offer later on. Another year 

 passed, and thinking I saw signs of a change in her feelings 

 towards me, but fearing another refusal, I wrote to her father, 

 stating the whole circumstances, and asking him to ascertain 

 his daughter's wishes, and if she was now favourable, to grant 

 me a private interview. In reply I was asked to call on 



Mr. L , who inquired as to my means, etc., told me that 



his daughter had a small income of her own, and asked that I 

 should settle an equal amount on her. This was satisfactorily 

 arranged, and at a subsequent meeting we were engaged. 



Everything went on smoothly for some months. We met 

 two or three times a week, and after delays, owing to Miss 



L 's ill-health and other causes, the wedding day was fixed 



and all details arranged. I had brought her to visit my 

 mother and sister, and I was quite unaware of any cause of 

 doubt or uncertainty when one day, on making my usual call, 



I was informed by the servant that Miss L was not at 



home, that she had gone away that morning, and would write. 

 I came home completely staggered, and the next morning 



had a letter from Mr. L , saying that his daughter wished 



to break off the engagement and would write to me shortly. 

 The blow was very severe, and I have never in my life 

 experienced such intensely painful emotion. 



When the letter came I was hardly more enlightened. 

 The alleged cause was that I was silent as to myself and 

 family, that I seemed to have something to conceal, and that 

 I had told her nothing about a widow lady, a friend of my 

 mother's, that I had almost been engaged to. All this was 

 to me the wildest delusion. The lady was the widow of an 

 Indian officer, very pleasant and good-natured, and very 

 gossipy, but as utterly remote in my mind from all ideas of 

 marriage as would have been an aunt or a grandmother. As 

 to concealment, it was the furthest thing possible from my 

 thoughts, but it never occurs to me at any time to talk about 

 myself, even my own children say that they know nothing 

 about my early life; but if anyone asks me and wishes to 

 know, I am willing to tell all that I know or remember. I 

 was dreadfully hurt. I wrote I am afraid too strongly, and 



