LETTER XIII.
To Jane Talbot.
You need not come to see me, Jane. I will not see you.
Lay me not under the cruel necessity of shutting my door
against you, for that must be the consequence of your attempt.
After reading your letter, and seeing full proof of your infatuation,
I resolved to throw away my care no longer upon
you. To think no more of you. To act just as if you
never had existence. Whenever it was possible, to shun
you. When I met you, by chance, or perforce, to treat you
merely as a stranger. I write this letter to acquaint you
with my resolution. Your future letters cannot change it,
for they shall all be returned to you unopened.
I know you better than to trust to the appearance of half
yielding reluctance which your letter contains. Thus it has
always been, and as often as this duteous strain flattered me
with hopes of winning you to reason, have I been deceived
and disappointed.
I trust to your discernment; your seeming humility no
longer. No child are you of mine. You have, henceforth,
no part in my blood, and may I very soon forget that
so lost and betrayed a wretch ever belonged to it.
I charge you, write not to me again.
