I was walking up that splendid valley--you remember my description--up toward the glacier.

That morning I had had a letter, naming the very day for our marriage, and speaking of the house--your house at Putney--he meant to take.

I had said to myself--'It must be; I can do nothing.

I haven't the courage.' Then, as I was walking, a sort of horror fell upon me, and made me tremble; and when it passed I saw that, so far from not having the courage to break, I should never dare to go through with it.
And I went back to the hotel, and sat down and wrote, without another moment's thought or hesitation." "What else could you have done ?" said Bertha, with a sigh of relief.
"When it comes to horror and tremblings!" There was a light in her eye which seemed the precursor of a smile; but her voice was not unsympathetic, and Rosamund knew that one of Bertha Cross smiles was worth more in the way of friendship than another's tragic emotion.
"Have patience with me," she continued, "whilst I try to explain it all.

The worst of my position is, that so many people will know what I have done, and so few of them, hardly any one, will understand why.