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[Page 52]
Harry, I like you almost enough to consider your attentions seriously. Do you not understand that it is because my actual love is given that I dare not risk more than tender camaraderie? I'm most desireous of being your friend, your Cousin, sister, helper, comforter, adviser if possible. Come to me in any trouble, seek my company with any joy and, believe me, I'll be only too happy and anxious to give the best of my affection to my champion.
You see, Cousin, not having the actual foundation of love to build upon I might make a mess of things if I allowed myself to be influenced further. Supposing a shared life proved too much opposed to my anticipations, not having the afore said love to buoy me up, as like as not. I'd grow cold and resentful, and think what a hell that would prove for you. No, I dare not risk your happiness as well as my own. (And did I not make you happy think you I could look your loving mother in the eyes.)
There are many others, Harry lad. When you return to your own country could you not choose and settle. Do not spend too much time over cultivation, for many of those nicecties of the English so called gentleman are but a cloak beneath which brutility hides. Just be your natural self. Oh, Harry, don't go back to that waiting mother with a sword thrust in your heart. Go back prepared to start anew