I could not leave England without trying the possibility of his seeing me once, of his consenting to kiss my child once.

So I wrote, and Robert wrote.

A manly, true, straightforward letter his was, yet in some parts so touching to me and so generous and conciliating everywhere, that I could scarcely believe in the probability of its being read in vain.

In reply he had a very violent and unsparing letter, with all the letters I had written to papa through these five years _sent back unopened, the seals unbroken_.

What went most to my heart was that some of the seals were black with black-edged envelopes; so that he might have thought my child or husband dead, yet never cared to solve the doubt by breaking the seal.