Dear Frederic I received your letter last Sunday, but I could not answer it sooner, as it required much consideration, and also some information which I have only obtained today.  About the plan of living at Perivale I will not say much now, as my mind is so full of other things.  I think, however, I may promise that I will never make any needless difficulty as to your plans.  My cousin Will left us on Monday, so your mother need not have any further anxiety on that head.  It does papa good to have him here, and for that reason I am sorry that he has gone.  I can assure you that I don’t think what you said about him meant anything at all particular.  Will is my nearest cousin, and of course you would be glad that I should like him which I do, very much.

And now about the other subject, which I own has distressed me, as you supposed it would I mean about Mrs Askerton.  I find it very difficult in your letter to divide what comes from your mother and what from yourself.  Of course I want to make the division, as every word from you has great weight with me.  At present I don’t know Lady Aylmer personally, and I cannot think of her as I do of you.  Indeed, were I to know her ever so well, I could not have the same deference for her that I have for the man who is to be my husband.  I only say this, as I fear that Lady Aylmer and I may not perhaps agree about Mrs Askerton.

I find that your story about Mrs Askerton is in the main true.  But the person who told it you does not seem to have known any of the provocations which she received.  She was very badly treated by Captain Berdmore, who, I am afraid, was a terrible drunkard; and at last she found it impossible to stay with him.  So she went away.  I cannot tell you how horrid it all was, but I am sure that if I could make you understand it, it would go a long way in inducing you to excuse her.  She was married to Colonel Askerton as soon as Captain Berdmore died, and this took place before she came to Belton.  I hope you will remember that.  It all occurred out in India, and I really hardly know what business we have to inquire about it now.

At any rate, as I have been acquainted with her a long time, and very intimately, and as I am sure that she has repented of anything that has been wrong, I do not think that I ought to quarrel with her now.  Indeed I have promised her that I will not.  I think I owe it you to tell you the whole truth, and that is the truth.

Pray give my regards to your mother, and tell her that I am sure she would judge differently if she were in my place.  This poor woman has no other friend here; and who am I, that I should take upon myself to condemn her?  I cannot do it.  Dear Frederic, pray do not be angry with me for asserting my own will in this matter.  I think you would wish me to have an opinion of my own.  In my present position I am bound to have one, as I am, as yet, responsible for what I do myself.  I shall be very, very sorry, if I find that you differ from me; but still I cannot be made to think that I am wrong.  I wish you were here, that we might talk it over together, as I think that in that case you would agree with me.