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[Page 59]
12.45. Midnight Monday
Harry boy, I'm worrying about you dreadfully. In my mad thoughtless desire to prove this day one of satisfaction for you I've deliberately fed a flame better left to slumber and I cannot forgive myself. I have no excuse to offer save that I am just a woman - a lonesome woman at times. Forgive me, laddie, if I have unsettled you; tell me you do not think me worthless?
Harry, not for anything would I have pained you. I feared you were growing fond and today, when I ought to have been more careful, I let things go on and on - oh, forgive me!
Believe me, had it been possible I would have promised today that the future should be ours alone; but, dear, your life would prove unsuitable to me in many ways and to have risked your happiness as well as my own would be damnable. Oh, if only I could assure myself that you'd go back to your own country and settle down with one of those adoring and less worldly girls, of whom you tell me!
I do so want you to be happy, laddie. But I shall remember your words of tonight, and turn to you for true friendship - please try to entertain similar feelings for me.
I hope you're sleeping tonight and will awake refreshed.
God bless you, Cousin o' mine - and may he teach you not to blame me when reaction of this day sets in!
Marie