’My dear father,
’I am Member of Parliament for Silverbridge,—as
you used to be in the days which I can first remember.
I hope you won’t think that it does not make
me unhappy to have differed from you. Indeed
it does. I don’t think that anybody has
ever done so well in politics as you have. But
when a man does take up an opinion, I don’t
see how he can help himself. Of course I could
have kept myself quiet;—but then you wished
me to be in the House. They were all very civil
to me at Silverbridge, but there was very little said.
’Your affectionate Son,
‘Silverbridge.’
The Duke Receives a Letter,—and Writes
One.
The Duke, when he received Mrs Finn’s note,
demanding an interview, thought much upon the matter
before he replied. She had made her demand as
though the Duke had been no more than any other gentleman,
almost as though she had a right to call upon him to
wait upon her. He understood and admitted the
courage of this;—but nevertheless he would
not go to her. He had trusted her with that which
of all things was the most sacred to him, and she had
deceived him! He wrote her as follows:
’The Duke of Omnium presents his compliments
to Mrs Finn. As the Duke thinks that no good
could result either to Mrs Finn or to himself from
an interview, he is obliged to say that he would rather
not do as Mrs Finn has requested.
’But for the strength of this conviction the
Duke would have waited upon Mrs Finn most willingly.’
Mrs Finn when she received this was not surprised.
She had felt sure that such would be the nature of
the Duke’s answer; but she was also sure that
is such an answer did come, she would not let the
matter rest. The accusation was so bitter to her
that she would spare nothing in defending herself,—nothing
in labour and nothing in time. She would make
him know that she was in earnest. As she could
not succeed in getting into his presence she must do
so by letter,—and she wrote her letter,
taking two days to think of her words.
’May 18, 18-
’My dear duke of Omnium,
’As you will not come to me, I must trouble
your Grace to read what I fear will be a long letter.
For it is absolutely necessary that I should explain
my conduct to you. That you have condemned me
I am sure you will not deny;—nor that you
have punished me as far as the power of punishment
was in your hands. If I can succeed in making
you see that you have judged me wrongly, I think you
will admit you error and beg my pardon. You are
not one who from your nature can be brought easily
to do this; but you are the one who will certainly
do it if you can be made to feel that by not doing
so you would be unjust. I am myself so clear as
to my own rectitude of purpose and conduct, and I am
so well aware of your perspicuity, that I venture
to believe that if you will read this letter I shall
convince you.
