Her only task now, therefore, was to frame a letter that would
best accomplish this end, and at the same time wring his soul with
unavailing regret.
But she was too sincere and sad to write diffusely and vaguely.
After a few moments' thought she rapidly traced the following lines:
"Mr. Van Berg:
"You first saw me at a concert, and your judgement of me was correct,
though severe. Your eyes have since been very cold and critical.
I have followed your exploring glances, and have found that I am,
indeed, ignorant and imperfect--that I was like the worm-eaten rose
bud that you tossed contemptuously down where it would be trampled
under foot. Seldom is that unfortunate little emblem of myself
out of my thoughts. If I dared to appeal to God I would say that
he knows that I would have tried to bloom into a better life, even
though imperfectly, if some one had only thought it worth while to
show me how. It is too late now. Like my counterpart, that you
threw away, I shall soon be forgotten in the dust.
"Although your estimate has been so harsh, I will not dispute it.
Circumstances have been against me from the first, and my own folly
has added whatever was wanting to confirm your unfavorable opinion.
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