He is gone to make money for ME; and I would
rather have lived on a crust. Uncle--don't hate me. I'm a poor,
bereaved, heart-broken creature, that repents."
"Repents! heigho! why, what have you been up to now, ma'am? No great
harm, I'll be bound. Flirting a little with some FOOL--eh?"
"Flirting! Me! a married woman."
"Oh, to be sure; I forgot. Why, surely he has not deserted you."
"My Christopher desert me! He loves me too well; far more than I
deserve; but not more than I will. Uncle Philip, I am too confused and
wretched to tell you all that has happened; but I know you love him,
though you had a tiff: uncle, he called on you, to shake hands and ask
your forgiveness, poor fellow! He was so sorry you were away. Please
read his dear diary: it will tell you all, better than his poor foolish
wife can. I know it by heart. I'll show you where you and he quarrelled
about me. There, see." And she showed him the passage with her finger.
"He never told me it was that, or I would have come and begged your
pardon on my knees. But see how sorry he was. There, see. And now I'll
show you another place, where my Christopher speaks of your many, many
acts of kindness. There, see. And now please let me show you how he
longed for reconciliation.
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