Kennedy did not meet again till late that evening.
She was ill, she said, and would not come down to dinner. After
dinner she wrote him a note. "Dear Robert, I think you must regret
what you said to me. If so, pray let me have a line from you to that
effect. Yours affectionately, L." When the servant handed it to him,
and he had read it, he smiled and thanked the girl who had brought
it, and said he would see her mistress just now. Anything would be
better than that the servants should know that there was a quarrel.
But every servant in the house had known all about it for the last
three hours. When the door was closed and he was alone, he sat
fingering the note, thinking deeply how he should answer it, or
whether he would answer it at all. No; he would not answer it;--not
in writing. He would give his wife no written record of his
humiliation. He had not acted wrongly. He had said nothing more than
now, upon mature consideration, he thought that the circumstances
demanded. But yet he felt that he must in some sort withdraw the
accusation which he had made. If he did not withdraw it, there was no
knowing what his wife might do. About ten in the evening he went up
to her and made his little speech. "My dear, I have come to answer
your note.
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