no chance. I have been quite uneasy since, as you know I do not wish
to pain you, yet I fear I shall be doing so now in contradicting what
I seemed to say then. I cannot, Diggory, marry you, or think of letting
you call me your sweetheart. I could not, indeed, Diggory. I hope you
will not much mind my saying this, and feel in a great pain. It makes me
very sad when I think it may, for I like you very much, and I always put
you next to my cousin Clym in my mind. There are so many reasons why we
cannot be married that I can hardly name them all in a letter. I did not
in the least expect that you were going to speak on such a thing when
you followed me, because I had never thought of you in the sense of a
lover at all. You must not becall me for laughing when you spoke; you
mistook when you thought I laughed at you as a foolish man. I laughed
because the idea was so odd, and not at you at all. The great reason
with my own personal self for not letting you court me is, that I do not
feel the things a woman ought to feel who consents to walk with you
with the meaning of being your wife. It is not as you think, that I have
another in my mind, for I do not encourage anybody, and never have in
my life. Another reason is my aunt. She would not, I know, agree to it,
even if I wished to have you. She likes you very well, but she will
want me to look a little higher than a small dairy-farmer, and marry
a professional man. I hope you will not set your heart against me for
writing plainly, but I felt you might try to see me again, and it is
better that we should not meet. I shall always think of you as a good
man, and be anxious for your well-doing. I send this by Jane Orchard's
little maid,--And remain Diggory, your faithful friend,

THOMASIN YEOBRIGHT.

To MR. VENN, Dairy-farmer.