I know not how, inspires me with an undefinable dread.  She has, however, been tolerably civil to me, but seems contemptuous and rude to my father, and I am afraid he is very wretched, I have seen them exchange such looks, and overheard such intemperate and even appalling altercations between them, as indicate something worse and deeper than ordinary ill-will.  This makes me additionally wretched, especially as I cannot help thinking that some mysterious cause enables her to frighten and tyrannise over my poor father.  I sometimes think he absolutely detests her; yet, though fiery altercations ensue, he ultimately submits to this bad and cruel woman.  Oh, my dear Charles, you have no idea of the shocking, or rather the terrifying, reproaches I have heard interchanged between them, as I accidently passed the room where they were sitting—­such terms as have sent me to my room, feeling as if I were in a horrid dream, and made me cry and tremble for hours after I got there....  I see my father very seldom, and when I do, he takes but little notice of me....  Poor Willett, you know, returned with me.  She accompanies me in my walks, and is constantly dropping hints about mademoiselle, from which I know not what to gather....

“I often fear that my father has some secret and mortal ailment.  He generally looks ill, and sometimes quite wretchedly.  He came twice lately to my room, I think to speak to me on some matter of importance; but he said only a sentence or two, and even these broken and incoherent.  He seemed unable to command spirits for the interview; and, indeed, he grew so agitated and strange, that I was alarmed, and felt greatly relieved when he left me....

“I do not, you see, disguise my feelings, dear Charles; I do not conceal from you the melancholy and anguish of my present situation.  How intensely I long for your promised arrival.  I have not a creature to whom I can say one word in confidence, except poor Willett; who, though very good-natured, and really dear to me, is yet far from being a companion.  I sometimes think my intense anxiety to see you here is almost selfish; for I know you will feel as acutely as I do, the terrible change observable everywhere.  But I cannot help longing for your return, dear Charles, and counting the days and the very hours till you arrive....

“Be cautious, in writing to me, not to say anything which you would not wish mademoiselle to see; for Willett tells me that she knows that she often examines, and even intercepts the letters that arrive; and, though Willett may be mistaken, and I hope she is, yet it is better that you should be upon your guard.  Ever since I heard this, I have brought my letters to the post office myself, instead of leaving them with the rest upon the hall table; and you know it is a long walk for me....