You have my thoughts exactly as they arise, my dear Fanny; perhaps they are sometimes contradictory, but it will not be a less faithful picture of my mind.

Having once begun, it is a pleasure to me to tell you all I feel.

I cannot give her up.

Connected as we already are, and, I hope, are to be, to give up Mary Crawford would be to give up the society of some of those most dear to me; to banish myself from the very houses and friends whom, under any other distress, I should turn to for consolation.

The loss of Mary I must consider as comprehending the loss of Crawford and of Fanny.