I seem to wither up like some sensitive plant in that blighting air; half-truths, misunderstandings, and jealousies have corroded our home peace.

I am better away from it all, for here I can own myself ill and miserable, and no one blames or misapprehends my meaning: there are no harsh judgments under the guise of pity.
'These dear people are so truly charitable, they think no evil of a poor girl who is faithful to a brother's memory: they are patient with my sad moods, they leave me free to follow out my wishes.

I wander about as I will, I sketch or read, I sit idle; no one blames me; they are as good to me as you would be in their place.
'I shall stay away as long as possible, until I feel strong enough to take up my life again.

You will not be vexed with me, my dear Ursula: you know how I have suffered; you of all others will sympathise with me.
Think of the relief it is to wake up in the morning and feel that no jarring influences will be at work that day; that no eyes will pry into my secret sorrow, or seek to penetrate my very thoughts; that I may look and speak as I like; that my words will not be twisted to serve other people's purposes.

Forgive me if I speak harshly, but indeed you do not know all yet.