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Mark Rutherford
one of those Stanton girls at Ely. I saw
she was trying to catch him. It is all off now. She is a town girl,
stuck-up, spends a lot of money on her clothes, and would have been
no wife for Jim. She would not have been able to put her hand to
anything here. She might have broken my heart, for she would have
tried to draw Jim away from me. I don't believe, my dearest child, in
wedded love which lessens the love for father and mother. When you
were going to be married what agony I went through! It was so wicked
of me, for it was jealousy with no cause. I thank God you love me as
much as ever. I wish I could see you again at Homerton, but the
journey made me so ill last winter that I dare not venture just
yet.--Your loving mother,
RACHEL SUTTON.
HOMERTON, 27th Nov. 1838.
My Dearest Mother,--The cake was delicious: it tasted of Blackdeep,
and the cross-over will be most useful. It will keep me warm on cold
days, and the love that came with it will thicken the wool. But, mother,
it is not a month ago since you sent me the stockings. You are always at
work for me. You are just like father. He gave us things not only on
birthdays, but when we never looked out for them. Do you remember
that week when wheat dropped three shillings a quarter? He had two
hundred quarters which he might have sold ten days earlier. He was
obliged to sell them at the next market and lost thirty pounds, but he
had seen at Ely that day a little desk, and he knew I wanted a desk, and
he bought it for me with a fishing- rod and landing-net for Jim.
My husband said he could not think of anything I needed and wrote me
a cheque for two pounds.
O! that you could come here, and yet I am certain you must not. My
heart aches to have you. In my day-dreams I go over the long miles to
Blackdeep, through Ware, through Royston, through Cambridge,
through every village, and then I feel how far away you are. I turned
out of the room the other day the chair in which you always sat. I could
not bear to see it empty. Charles noticed it had gone and ordered it to

be brought back. He may have suspected the reason why I put it
upstairs. My dearest, dearest mother, never fear that my affection for
you can become less. Sometimes after marriage a woman loves her
mother more than she ever loved her before.
It is a black fog here and not a breath of air is stirring. How different
are our fogs at Blackdeep! They may be thick, but they are white and
do not make us miserable. I never shall forget when I was last in
Fortyacres and saw the mist lying near the river, and the church spire
bright in the sunlight. The churchyard and the lower part of the church
were quite hidden.
What a mercy Jim was not trapped by Dolly, for I suppose it was she.
Jim is not the first she has tried to get. You are quite right. She might
have broken your heart, and I am sure she would have broken Jim's, for
she is as hard as a millstone.--Your loving child,
ESTHER.
BLACKDEEP FEN, 3rd December 1838.
Your letter made me feel unhappy. I am afraid something is on your
mind. What is the matter? I was not well before I went to Homerton the
last time, but maybe it was not London that upset me. If you cannot
leave, I shall come. Let me hear by the next post.
HOMERTON, 5th December 1838.
I told Charles I was expecting you. He said that your sudden
determination seemed odd. 'Your mother,' he added, 'is a woman who
acts upon impulses. She ought always to take time for consideration.
This is hardly the proper season for travelling.' I asked him if he would
let me go to Blackdeep. He replied that, unless there was some
particular reason for it, my proposal was as unwise as yours. What am I
to do? A particular reason! It is a particular reason that I pine for my
mother. Can there be any reason more particular than a longing for the
sight of a dear face, for kisses and embraces? You must counsel me.

BLACKDEEP, 15th December 1838.
As Charles imagines I am carried away by what he calls impulses, I did
not answer your letter at once, and I have been thinking as much as I
can. I am not a good hand at it. Your dear father had a
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