I felt out of sorts with her but did not show it. We
fondled as usual and I was handling her and feeling her queer as she had not
much cousin – at least, all was dry. Explained why I thought her mistaken in
thinking she would bear a man easier than me – explained the size of men – how Caesar
was biliber[?] – as big as two books. Mentioned some women taking even an ass
and the woman in Paris with a dog to be seen for ten francs etc. – all which
she listened to with interest and composure. Told [of] my attachment to Eliza
Raine that began at thirteen or fourteen – each unknowing at first that there
was a break between us – my fault – I too giddy, tho’ not caring in reality for
anyone else – and the poor girl from that time began to be not quite herself.
Joked and said I knew she, Miss W-, meant to say ‘no’ –
that she would break my heart at last, but she would never hear of it – would hear
neither of nor from me – then, said she, I must say yes or give you up entirely.
Said what else could she expect – people who felt moderately might act so – how
could I do so? I had nothing for it except one extreme or other – thus, such,
in preparation of being off, I know she would like to keep me on so as to have
the benefit of my intimacy without any real joint concern.
[Letter to M-] Did not mention her in any way so that M-
could surmise anything particular – on the contrary – afterwards spoke of having
no tie here and should be glad to be off as soon as I could.
[Talking to my aunt] about Miss Walker – my aunt’s joking
me yesterday about my changing my mind had struck me – perhaps I might do so.
The nearer I seemed to her, Miss W-‘s, consenting – and by a strange perversity
– the more I doubted my own mind. She had chosen lemons too well – and knowingly
– and like a housekeeper at Gregory’s on Monday. In fact, talked as if I was
very wavering as in fact I begin to feel.
from M-] [‘I am very unwilling, my dearest Fred, to cuff you to another person
that does not learn to share your own mind on the best – but it seems to me
that Eugénie is the person of all others to suit you’ – However, she went to
see Miss Smith and let me know what she thought of her…I scarce know what to do
– poor M- seems not very confident off that long expected, C[harles] would be
beside himself and often told M- so.] Her letter seems as if she thought of me
affectionately – does she half repent the break between us? Heaven only knows.
If I can get Miss Walker, M- will be surprised – she talks of my probably
settling abroad for some years. [M- would not advise me to take a foreigner if I
was going to remain at home, but on my return advise me to ‘take a steady,
respectable woman who you can depend upon to look after your other servants’]. This
seems as if M- had no thought of ever being with me.
Incurred a cross last night thinking of Miss Walker.
Think we shall get on together – she feels satisfied at
having called at Pye Nest and grateful to me for persuading her to do so. I
wonder if I can at all mould her to my own way.
About my little care for M-.
[Letter from M-] She wishes Mr W[illoughby] Crewe was – I
wish to heaven he was – well married. I value his friendship and his regard and
should heartily rejoice over any change in his present way of life, for, honestly,
I think he will go melancholy. It does not seem as if she cared more for him
that for me. Well, I trust I have done with her. I rarely think of her without
from M-] She regrets disappointing me – ‘the last of my sins is that of
willingly disappointing you’ – this is well enough, but she has disappointed me
altogether and I am really getting over it and already thinking it is all for
the best and, perhaps, lucky for me. Something will turn up and she and I can
remain on comfortable, friendly terms.
She could only sleep on the right-side last night – it was
well she was ready for me without any trouble moving. A pretty good kiss on getting
into bed and another about an hour after, she nothing loth and seeming to have
had two good ones – said after the first she thought I had done her good and in
the midst of the second said how delightful. Tried to go to sleep but [M- suffered
much from her ear].
She asked me if I would go farther which I declined. I
asked as we drove down the back if she cared for me – yes – if she thought of
me – yes, often and much – but she still thinks she shall not be long lived and
that Charles will survive her and, somehow, the calmness or indifference of her
manner annoyed me. I asked if she would go to Holland again – no, she did not wish
to travel, liked her hens and chickens better. Somehow, I said to myself on
leaving, ‘well, I never think of her without irritation’. I felt relieved to be
rid of her and anxious to get her out of my mind. Shall I, said I to myself, ever
dislike her – I am glad her visit is over, yet no one, as my aunt owns, see any
difference from formerly in the manner of either of us – but, said I, there is
a great difference at heart.
From ten to one and three quarters wrote quickly enough
and then wrote out.
Very civil and kind and attentive to M-. In walking home
she had seemed to take rather more interest about things than she did before.
Got into bed as soon as I could – not much conversation, she was in pain from her
Incurred a cross last night thinking of M-.
At the last station and here little necessary at the back across
the court line space. It is a bleak table line bench over a wooden tub and I
did a tolerable big job very comfortably.
Incurred a cross last night
thinking of M-.
Incurred a cross last night
thinking of M-.