She clearly acknowledged to herself that she had a great difficulty before her.  She had committed herself altogether to Mrs Askerton, and could no longer entertain any thought of obeying the very plainly expressed commands which Captain Aylmer had given her.  The story as told by Captain Aylmer had been true throughout; but, in the teeth of that truth, she intended to maintain her acquaintance with Mrs Askerton.  From that there was now no escape.  She had been carried away by impulse in what she had done and said at the cottage, but she could not bring herself to regret it.  She could not believe that it was her duty to throw over and abandon a woman whom she loved, because that woman had once, in her dire extremity, fallen away from the path of virtue.  But how was she to write the letter?

When she reached her father he complained of her absence, and almost scolded her for having been so long at the cottage.  ‘I cannot see’, said he, ‘what you find in that woman to make so much of her.’

‘She is the only neighbour I have, papa.’

‘And better none than her, if all that people say of her is true.’

‘All that people say is never true, papa.’

’There is no smoke without fire.  I am not at all sure that it’s good for you to be so much with her.’

‘Oh, papa don’t treat me like a child.’

’And I’m sure it’s not good for me that you should be so much away.  For anything I have seen of you all day you might have been at Perivale.  But you are going soon, altogether, so I suppose I may as well make up my mind to it.’

‘I’m not going for a long time yet, papa.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean that there’s nothing to take me away from here at present.’

‘You are engaged to be married.’

’But it will be a long engagement.  It is one of those engagements in which neither party is very anxious for an immediate change.’  There was something bitter in Clara’s tone as she said this, which the old man perceived, but could only half understand.  Clara remained with him then for the rest of the day, going down-stairs for five minutes to her dinner, and then returning to him and reading aloud while he dozed.  Her winter evenings at Belton Castle were not very bright, but she was used to them and made no complaint.

When she left her father for the night she got out her desk and prepared herself for her letter to her lover.  She was determined that it should be finished that night before she went to bed.  And it was so finished; though the writing of it gave her much labour, and occupied her till the late hours had come upon her.  When completed it was as follows: 

’Belton Castle,

Thursday Night.