I am sure you will understand and that you will see my duty as I see it
myself. It seems to me clear. Everyone has duties, I suppose, but you
and I have ours very plainly shown us, I think. Yours is to your father
and mine to my uncles.


Bringing that letter to an end was a difficult task. There were things
which must be said and they were so very hard to say. At last, after
many attempts:


I have not referred [she wrote] to what you said to me when we last met.
It seems almost useless to refer to it, doesn't it? You see how I
am placed here, and I have written you what I mean to do. And please
understand I am doing it gladly, I am happy in having the opportunity to
do it; but it does mean that for years my life and interest must be here
with them. Even if I were sure of my own feelings--and perhaps I am not
really sure--I certainly should not think of asking one I cared for to
wait so long. You have your future to think of, Crawford, and you must
think of it. And there is your father. Of course, I don't know, but I
somehow feel certain that he will not wish you to marry me. Don't you
think it better for us both to end it now? It seems so hopeless.


Which, she flattered herself, was brave and sensible and right. And,
having reached this commendable conclusion and sealed and posted the
letter, she came back to the house, went upstairs to her room, and,
throwing herself upon the bed, cried bitterly for many minutes.