Chapter 47 - The Wife's Confession
"GLENINCH, October 19, 18--.
"MY HUSBAND--
"I have something very painful to tell you about one of youroldest friends.
"You have never encouraged me to come to you with any confidencesof mine. If you had allowed me to be as familiar with you as somewives are with their husbands, I should have spoken to youpersonally instead of writing. As it is, I don't know how youmight receive what I have to say to you if I said it by word ofmouth. So I write.
"The man against whom I warn you is still a guest in thishouse--Miserrimus Dexter. No falser or wickeder creature walksthe earth. Don't throw my letter aside! I have waited to say thisuntil I could find proof that might satisfy you. I have got theproof.
"You may remember that I ventured to express some disapprovalwhen you first told me you had asked this man to visit us. If youhad allowed me time to explain myself, I might have been boldenough to give you a good reason for the aversion I felt towardyour friend. But you would not wait. You hastily (and mostunjustly) accused me of feeling prejudiced against the miserablecreature on account of his deformity. No other feeling thancompassion for deformed persons has ever entered my mind. I have,indeed, alm ost a fellow-feeling for them; being that next worstthing myself to a deformity--a plain woman. I objected to Mr.Dexter as your guest because he had asked me to be his wife inpast days, and because I had reason to fear that he stillregarded me (after my marriage) with a guilty and a horriblelove. Was it not my duty, as a good wife, to object to his beingyour guest at Gleninch? And was it not your duty, as a goodhusband, to encourage me to say more?
"Well, Mr. Dexter has been your guest for many weeks; and Mr.Dexter has dared to speak to me again of his love. He hasinsulted me, and insulted you, by declaring that _he_ adores meand that _you_ hate me. He has promised me a life of unalloyedhappiness, in a foreign country with my lover; and he hasprophesied for me a life of unendurable misery at home with myhusband.
"Why did I not make my complaint to you, and have this monsterdismissed from the house at once and forever?
"Are you sure you would have believed me if I had complained, andif your bosom friend had denied all intention of insulting me? Iheard you once say (when you were not aware that I was withinhearing) that the vainest women were always the ugly women. Youmight have accused _me_ of vanity. Who knows?
"But I have no desire to shelter myself under this excuse. I am ajealous, unhappy creature; always doubtful of your affection forme; always fearing that another woman has got my place in yourheart. Miserrimus Dexter has practiced on this weakness of mine.He has declared he can prove to me (if I will permit him) that Iam, in your secret heart, an object of loathing to you; that youshrink from touching me; that you curse the hour when you werefoolish enough to make me your wife. I have struggled as long asI could against the temptation to let him produce his proofs. Itwas a terrible temptation to a woman who was far from feelingsure of the sincerity of your affection for her; and it has endedin getting the better of my resistance. I wickedly concealed thedisgust which the wretch inspired in me; I wickedly gave himleave to explain himself; I wickedly permitted this enemy ofyours and of mine to take me into his confidence. And why?Because I loved you, and you only; and because MiserrimusDexter's proposal did, after all, echo a doubt of you that hadlong been gnawing secretly at my heart.
"Forgive me, Eustace! This is my first sin against you. It shallbe my last.
"I will not spare myself; I will write a full confession of whatI said to him and of what he said to me. You may make me sufferfor it when you know what I have done; but you will at least bewarned in time; you will see your false friend in his true light.
"I said to him, 'How can you prove to me that my husband hates mein secret?'
"He answered, 'I can prove it under his own handwriting; youshall see it in his Diary.'
"I said, 'His Diary has a lock; and the drawer in which he keepsit has a lock. How can you get at the Diary and the drawer?'
"He answered, 'I have my own way of getting at both of them,without the slightest risk of being discovered by your husband.All you have to do is to give me the opportunity of seeing youprivately. I will engage, in return, to bring the open Diary withme to your room.'
"I said, 'How can I give you the opportunity? What do you mean?'
'He pointed to the key in the door of communication between myroom and the little study.
"He said, 'With my infirmity, I may not be able to profit by thefirst opportunity of visiting you here unobserved. I must be ableto choose my own time and my own way of getting to you secretly.Let me take this key, leaving the door locked. When the key ismissed, if _you_ say it doesn't matter--if _you_ point out thatthe door is locked, and tell the servants not to troublethemselves about finding the key--there will be no disturbance inthe house; and I shall be in secure possession of a means ofcommunication with you which no one will suspect. Will you dothis?'
"I have done it.
"Yes! I have become the accomplice of this double-faced villain.I have degraded myself and outraged you by making an appointmentto pry into your Diary. I know how base my conduct is. I can makeno excuse. I can only repeat that I love you, and that I amsorely afraid you don't love me. And Miserrimus Dexter offers toend my doubts by showing me the most secret thoughts of yourheart, in your own writing.
"He is to be with me, for this purpose (while you are out), sometime in the course of the next two hours I shall decline to besatisfied with only once looking at your Diary; and I shall makean appointment with him to bring it to me again at the same timeto-morrow. Before then you will receive these lines by the handof my nurse. Go out as usual after reading them; but returnprivately, and unlock the table-drawer in which you keep yourbook. You will find it gone. Post yourself quietly in the littlestudy; and you will discover the Diary (when Miserrimus Dexterleaves me) in the hands of your friend.*
-----------------------------------* Note by Mr. Playmore:
The greatest difficulties of reconstruction occurred in thisfirst portion of the torn letter. In the fourth paragraph fromthe beginning we have been obliged to supply lost words in noless than three places. In the ninth, tenth, and seventeenthparagraphs the same proceeding was, in a greater or less degree,found to be necessary. In all these cases the utmost pains havebeen taken to supply the deficiency in exact accordance with whatappeared to be the meaning of the writer, as indicated in theexisting pieces of the manuscript.-----------------------------------
"October 20.
"I have read your Diary.
"At last I know what you really think of me. I have read whatMiserrimus Dexter promised I should read--the confession of yourloathing for me, in your own handwriting.
"You will not receive what I wrote to you yesterday at the timeor in the manner which I had proposed. Long as my letter is, Ihave still (after reading your Diary) some more words to add.After I have closed and sealed the envelope, and addressed it toyou, I shall put it under my pillow. It will be found there whenI am laid out for the grave--and then, Eustace (when it is toolate for hope or help), my letter will be given to you.
"Yes: I have had enough of my life. Yes: I mean to die.
"I have already sacrificed everything but my life to my love foryou. Now I know that my love is not returned, the last sacrificeleft is easy. My death will set you free to marry Mrs. Beauly.
"You don't know what it cost me to control my hatred of her, andto beg her to pay her visit here, without minding my illness. Icould never have done it if I had not been so fond of you, and sofearful of irritating you against me by showing my jealousy. Andhow did you reward me? Let your Diary answer: 'I tenderlyembraced her this very morning; and I hope, poor soul, she didnot discover the effort that it cost me.'
"Well, I have discovered it now. I know that you privately thinkyour life with me 'a purgatory.' I know that you havecompassionately hidden from me the 'sense of shrinking that comesover you when you are obliged to submit to my caresses.' I amnothing but an obstacle--an 'utterly distasteful'obstacle--between you and the woman whom you love so dearly thatyou 'adore the earth which she touches with her foot.' Be it so!I will stand in your way no longer. It is no sacrifice and nomerit on my part. Life is unendurable to me, now I know that theman whom I love with all my heart and soul secretly shrinks fromme whenever I touch him.
"I have got the means of death close at hand.
"The arsenic that I twice asked you to buy for me is in mydressing-case. I deceived you when I mentioned some commonplacedomestic reasons for wanting it. My true reason was to try if Icould not improve my ugly complexion--not from any vain feelingof mine: only to make myself look better and more lovable in youreyes. I have taken some of it for that purpose; but I have gotplenty left to kill myself with. The poison will have its use atlast. It might have failed to improve my complexion--it will notfail to relieve you of your ugly wife.
"Don't let me be examined after death. Show this letter to thedoctor who attends me. It will tell him that I have committedsuicide; it will prevent any innocent persons from beingsuspected of poisoning me. I want nobody to be blamed orpunished. I shall remove the chemist's label, and carefully emptythe bottle containing the poison, so that he may not suffer on myaccount.
"I must wait here, and rest a little while--then take up myletter again. It is far too long already. But these are myfarewell words. I may surely dwell a little on my last talk withyou!
"October 21. Two o'clock in the morning.
"I sent you out of the room yesterday when you came in to ask howI had passed the night. And I spoke of you shamefully, Eustace,after you had gone, to the hired nurse who attends on me. Forgiveme. I am almost beside myself now. You know why.
"Half-past three.
"Oh, my husband, I have done the deed which will relieve you ofthe wife whom you hate! I have taken the poison--all of it thatwas left in the paper packet, which was the first that I found.If this is not enough to kill me, I have more left in the bottle.
"Ten minutes past five.
"You have just gone, after giving me my composing draught. Mycourage failed me at the sight of you. I thought to myself, 'Ifhe look at me kindly, I will confess what I have done, and lethim save my life.' You never looked at me at all. You only lookedat the medicine. I let you go without saying a word.
"Half-past five.
"I begin to feel the first effects of the poison. The nurse isasleep at the foot of my bed. I won't call for assistance; Iwon't wake her. I will die.
"Half-past nine.
"The agony was beyond my endurance--I awoke the nurse. I haveseen the doctor.
"Nobody suspects anything. Strange to say, the pain has left me;I have evidently taken too little of the poison. I must open thebottle which contains the larger quantity. Fortunately, you arenot near me--my resolution to die, or, rather, my loathing oflife, remains as bitterly unaltered as ever. To make sure of mycourage, I have forbidden the nurse to send for you. She has justgone downstairs by my orders. I am free to get the poison out ofmy dressing-case.
"Ten minutes to ten.
"I had just time to hide the bottle (after the nurse had left me)when you came into my room.
"I had another moment of weakness when I saw you. I determined togive myself a last chance of life. That is to say, I determinedto offer you a last opportunity of treating me kindly. I askedyou to get me a cup of tea. If, in paying me this littleattention, you only encouraged me by one fond word or one fondlook, I resolved not to take the second dose of poison.
"You obeyed my wishes, but you were not kind. You gave me my tea,Eustace, as if you were giving a drink to your dog. And then youwondered in a languid way (thinking, I suppose, of Mrs. Beaulyall the time), at my dropping the cup in handing it back to you.I really could not help it; my hand _would_ tremble. In my place,your hand might have trembled too--with the arsenic under thebedclothes. You politely hoped, before you went away? that thetea would do me good--and, oh God, you could not even look at mewhen you said that! You looked at the broken bits of the tea-cup.
"The instant you were out of the room I took the poison--a doubledose this time.
"I have a little request to make here, while I think of it.
"After removing the label from the bottle, and putting it back,clean, in my dressing-case, it struck me that I had failed totake the same precaution (in the early morning) with the emptypaper-packet, bearing on it the name of the other chemist. Ithrew it aside on the counterpane of the bed, among some otherloose papers. my ill-tempered nurse complained of the litter, andcrumpled them all up and put them away somewhere. I hope thechemist will not suffer through my carelessness. Pray bear it inmind to say that he is not to blame.
"Dexter--something reminds me of Miserrimus Dexter. He has putyour Diary back again in the drawer, and he presses me for ananswer to his proposals. Has this false wretch any conscience? Ifhe has, even he will suffer--when my death answers him.
"The nurse has been in my room again. I have sent her away. Ihave told her I want to be alone.
"How is the time going? I cannot find my watch. Is the paincoming back again and paralyzing me? I don't feel it keenly yet.
"It may come back, though, at any moment. I have still to closemy letter and to address it to you. And, besides, I must save upmy strength to hide it under the pillow, so that nobody may findit until after my death.
"Farewell, my dear. I wish I had been a prettier woman. A moreloving woman (toward you) I could not be. Even now I dread thesight of your dear face. Even now, if I allowed myself the luxuryof looking at you, I don't know that you might not charm me intoconfessing what I have done--before it is too late to save me.
"But you are not here. Better as it is! better as it is!
"Once more, farewell! Be happier than you have been with me. Ilove you, Eustace--I forgive you. When you have nothing else tothink about, think sometimes, as kindly as you can, of your poor,ugly
"SARA MACALLAN."*
----------------------------------- * Note by Mr. Playmore:
The lost words and phrases supplied in this concluding portion ofthe letter are so few in number that it is needless to mentionthem. The fragments which were found accidentally stuck togetherby the gum, and which represent the part of the letter firstcompletely reconstructed, begin at the phrase, "I spoke of youshamefully, Eustace;" and end with the broken sentence, "If inpaying me this little attention, you only encouraged me by onefond word or one fond look, I resolved not to take--" With theassistance thus afforded to us, the labor of putting together theconcluding half of the letter (dated "October 20") was trifling,compared with the almost insurmountable difficulties which weencountered in dealing with the scattered wreck of the precedingpages. -----------------------------------