At any rate, believe me that I have cherished no such feelings as those with which you credit me toward you.

Now that I know the truth, I can only regret that your life has been, as you say, spoiled, by what can but be called a fatal misunderstanding.
"Next, I must thank you, although you make no allusion to it in your letter, for your kindness during past years.

Of these, believe me, I never suspected that you were the author; and I need hardly say how deeply I have been touched at finding that the hand to which I and my boy owe so much is that of Herbert Penfold.

Of this I will say no more.

I leave you to picture my feelings and my gratitude.