When I go about here in a gondola, I surprise myself looking into other

gondolas as if I hoped to see them. It would overcome me with joy to

see them, but I don't think it would surprise me much, at first. In my

fanciful times, I fancy that they might be anywhere; and I almost expect

to see their dear faces on the bridges or the quays.

Another difficulty that I have will seem very strange to you. It must

seem very strange to any one but me, and does even to me: I often feel

the old sad pity for--I need not write the word--for him. Changed as he

is, and inexpressibly blest and thankful as I always am to know it, the

old sorrowful feeling of compassion comes upon me sometimes with such

strength that I want to put my arms round his neck, tell him how I love

him, and cry a little on his breast. I should be glad after that, and

proud and happy. But I know that I must not do this; that he would not

like it, that Fanny would be angry, that Mrs General would be amazed;

and so I quiet myself. Yet in doing so, I struggle with the feeling that

I have come to be at a distance from him; and that even in the midst of

all the servants and attendants, he is deserted, and in want of me.

Dear Mr Clennam, I have written a great deal about myself, but I must

write a little more still, or what I wanted most of all to say in this

weak letter would be left out of it. In all these foolish thoughts of

mine, which I have been so hardy as to confess to you because I know you

will understand me if anybody can, and will make more allowance for me

than anybody else would if you cannot--in all these thoughts, there is

one thought scarcely ever--never--out of my memory, and that is that

I hope you sometimes, in a quiet moment, have a thought for me. I must

tell you that as to this, I have felt, ever since I have been away, an

anxiety which I am very anxious to relieve. I have been afraid that you

may think of me in a new light, or a new character. Don't do that, I

could not bear that--it would make me more unhappy than you can suppose.

It would break my heart to believe that you thought of me in any way

that would make me stranger to you than I was when you were so good to

me.




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