In no respect has your vengeance failed. I--your old friend,
playmate, brother, the son of your mother's dearest friend--have
been made miserable for life. Your revenge was well chosen. You
knew that, however I might worship Madaline, my wife, however much
I might love her, she could never be mistress of Beechgrove, she
could never be the mother of my children; you knew that, and
therefore I say your revenge was admirably chosen. It were useless
to comment on your wickedness, or to express the contempt I feel
for the woman who could deliberately plan such evil and distress. I
must say this, however. All friendship and acquaintance between us
is at an end. You will be to me henceforward an entire stranger. I
could retaliate. I could write and tell your husband, who is a man
of honor, of the unworthy deed you have done; but I shall not do
that--it would be unmanly. Before my dear wife and I parted, we
agreed that the punishment of your sin should be left to Heaven. So
I leave it. To a woman unworthy enough to plan such a piece of
baseness, it will be satisfaction sufficient to know that her
scheme has succeeded.
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