nor send letters, except after a censorship so cruel on the part of this man that she might as well have been entirely cut off from the rest of the world.
During this period, she was permitted to receive my letters occasionally, but as I myself was unable to write independently of the head mistress's supervision, she never learnt in that way any of the truth about myself. My letters were dictated, one and all, by astute Lady Flayskin. My mother, however, possessed not only that feminine intuition which so often counts for far more than blind and halting reason; she possessed also in no common degree a passion of maternal love whose pure flame had seemed to be actually fed at the altar of her own sufferings. Thankful, indeed, she was to know, from seeing my writing, that I still lived, but her heart told her that all was not well, that I too suffered.
But what could she do? She could, and did pour out her heart to the Most High and awaited the intervention of that Providence whose ways are mysterious.
Her prayers were not unheeded. We were reunited, rich in the world's possessions and free of our bodies as of our minds.
Mr. Baker's death had been sudden. A confirmed and immoderate spirit-drinker, he had one evening indulged in a certain fiery Scotch whiskey to an extent unusual even with him. Under the influence of the alcohol, his savage passions of cruelty and lust were aroused and he ordered my mother to the Punishment Room.
His unfortunate victim, well aware from long experience that resistance was worse than useless obeyed. Betsy accompanied her and on the staircase dealt her a cruel box on the ears with the object, as the low creature averred of making her mend her face.
My poor mother was then stripped of her clothes by the same coarse and cruel hands and bound to the wooden apparatus covered with glazed red kid. The heavy, unsteady steps of the drunkard then approached from the dining-room.
Tottering into the Punishment Room, Baker selected the long-lashed trainer's whip and managed to crack it once or twice, as was his wont, with the purpose of inspiring due preliminary terror in the heart of his victim. Suddenly he stumbled the whip fell from his hands, and he would have fallen to the ground had not Betsy received him in her arms.
Alcoholic congestion and Neronic excitement had done their work.
Seeing her master without breath or move ment, Betsy completely lost her head. For getting even to free my mother who was stretched over the whipping-horse, her petticoats (which had not been removed) over her head and her back parts bare, while her hands were fixed fast in the rings; forgetting the significative humiliating pose of my dear mother, Betsy ran to the house of the nearest doctor, who did not happen to be Baker's usual medical attendant.
Entering the corridor, the first object that met his eye was my mother. He first set her free, then turned to Baker whom he found to have been dead for twenty minutes,
What can I add?
My mother has no thought of another and third mariage, young, beautiful, and charming though she is. We live together and she finds my loving companionship sufficient.
As for me doubtless I shall some day meet the girl whom I shall wish to make the adornment of my hearth. She will love and honour my dear mother, who in turn, will give her good counsel and love her as a daughter.
If it be God's will I shall have children.
But neither boys nor girls of mine shall ever know the oppression of the corset. Their boots shall be of the comfortable, practical, flat-heeled English type.
Glazed kid in any shape or colour shall be ever 'taboo' in my house.
I hope that no little boy of mine will ever be dressed as a girl and called by a girl's name. And I express the same hope in regard to all other little boys.
For had not my darling mother delivered me in time I should have lost for ever my honour and my manhood.
