And so I thought that I would write a letter to Anthony Cardew, so that when I was dead he would understand and be sorry for me.  And I sat down and wrote it.  For I could not bear that he should think me unworthy and shameful, seeing that I loved him with all my heart and soul.

CHAPTER XXVII

BROSNA

I made several attempts at the letter, and discarded them all.  And at last, lest I should be interrupted and the letter never be written, I wrote in a great hurry.

     “Dear Captain Cardew,

“I hope this letter will reach you safely, so that in the days to come you will not misjudge me.  You wrote to me that you were giving me up to my cousin.  That you could not do, for I loved only you, and did from the hour I first laid eyes on you, and shall for ever.  But, loving you, I am going to marry Richard Dawson, the money-lender’s son.  And I must tell you, lest you should misjudge me, and all women for my sake, that I shall marry him most unwillingly.  I do it because Garret Dawson holds a secret of ours which only the sacrifice of myself can buy back.  I owe so much to the kind love which has never let me miss the love of father and mother.  But I am sure I shall not live long.  You should not have gone away and left me.

“Yours always,
“Bawn.”

When I had written it I did not read it over, lest I should destroy it with the others, but, having found a very strong envelope, I put it within it and sealed it with the impression of my father’s ring.

The only way I could hope for it to reach him was by leaving it at his old home, which I knew he loved despite its state of ruin—­or perhaps the more because of that—­and he was sure to return there some time.  So I addressed it to Captain Cardew, Brosna; and then, because I could trust no one but myself to deliver it I stole out of the house.

I was free for a few hours, for my lover was gone to Dublin.  He had taken a cottage in the neighbourhood, because he had once heard me express a liking for it.  It was a pretty little place, enclosed by high walls which held within them many beauties.  It would have been an exquisite place for a pair of happy lovers; and he was making it very fine and dainty for me.  It had been unoccupied for some years; and he was having it newly decorated and furnishing it with the prettiest things money could buy.  He had said that I was not to see it till it was ready for me; and it occupied as much of his time as he could spare from me.  In Dublin he was picking up all manner of pretty things in the way of antique furniture and china and glass and silver and pictures.  We were to stay at the cottage a few days after our marriage, before we went abroad; and afterwards it was to be our home till such time as I desired a finer one.

He was so generous that at times I felt ashamed that he should do so much for an unwilling bride; and if I could have felt less aversion for him I would gladly have done so.  I used to feel that if I could watch him lavishing everything on another woman—­for he squandered his love as well as his money on me—­I could have liked and admired him.