The Moonstone, Wilkie Collins [best motivational books of all time .TXT] 📗

of mine. I can’t expect you to read my letter, if I write it in this way. But it does stir one up to hear Miss Rachel called pretty, when one knows all the time that it’s her dress does it, and her confidence in herself.

“Try not to lose patience with me, sir. I will get on as fast as I can to the time which is sure to interest you⁠—the time when the Diamond was lost.

“But there is one thing which I have got it on my mind to tell you first.

“My life was not a very hard life to bear, while I was a thief. It was only when they had taught me at the reformatory to feel my own degradation, and to try for better things, that the days grew long and weary. Thoughts of the future forced themselves on me now. I felt the dreadful reproach that honest people⁠—even the kindest of honest people⁠—were to me in themselves. A heartbreaking sensation of loneliness kept with me, go where I might, and do what I might, and see what persons I might. It was my duty, I know, to try and get on with my fellow-servants in my new place. Somehow, I couldn’t make friends with them. They looked (or I thought they looked) as if they suspected what I had been. I don’t regret, far from it, having been roused to make the effort to be a reformed woman⁠—but, indeed, indeed it was a weary life. You had come across it like a beam of sunshine at first⁠—and then you too failed me. I was mad enough to love you; and I couldn’t even attract your notice. There was great misery⁠—there really was great misery in that.

“Now I am coming to what I wanted to tell you. In those days of bitterness, I went two or three times, when it was my turn to go out, to my favourite place⁠—the beach above the Shivering Sand. And I said to myself, ‘I think it will end here. When I can bear it no longer, I think it will end here.’ You will understand, sir, that the place had laid a kind of spell on me before you came. I had always had a notion that something would happen to me at the quicksand. But I had never looked at it, with the thought of its being the means of my making away with myself, till the time came of which I am now writing. Then I did think that here was a place which would end all my troubles for me in a moment or two⁠—and hide me for ever afterwards.

“This is all I have to say about myself, reckoning from the morning when I first saw you, to the morning when the alarm was raised in the house that the Diamond was lost.

“I was so aggravated by the foolish talk among the women servants, all wondering who was to be suspected first; and I was so angry with you (knowing no better at that time) for the pains you took in hunting for the jewel, and sending for the police, that I kept as much as possible away by myself, until later in the day, when the officer from Frizinghall came to the house.

“Mr. Seegrave began, as you may remember, by setting a guard on the women’s bedrooms; and the women all followed him upstairs in a rage, to know what he meant by the insult he had put on them. I went with the rest, because if I had done anything different from the rest, Mr. Seegrave was the sort of man who would have suspected me directly. We found him in Miss Rachel’s room. He told us he wouldn’t have a lot of women there; and he pointed to the smear on the painted door, and said some of our petticoats had done the mischief, and sent us all downstairs again.

“After leaving Miss Rachel’s room, I stopped a moment on one of the landings, by myself, to see if I had got the paint-stain by any chance on my gown. Penelope Betteredge (the only one of the women with whom I was on friendly terms) passed, and noticed what I was about.

“ ‘You needn’t trouble yourself, Rosanna,’ she said. ‘The paint on Miss Rachel’s door has been dry for hours. If Mr. Seegrave hadn’t set a watch on our bedrooms, I might have told him as much. I don’t know what you think⁠—I was never so insulted before in my life!’

“Penelope was a hot-tempered girl. I quieted her, and brought her back to what she had said about the paint on the door having been dry for hours.

“ ‘How do you know that?’ I asked.

“ ‘I was with Miss Rachel, and Mr. Franklin, all yesterday morning,’ Penelope said, ‘mixing the colours, while they finished the door. I heard Miss Rachel ask whether the door would be dry that evening, in time for the birthday company to see it. And Mr. Franklin shook his head, and said it wouldn’t be dry in less than twelve hours. It was long past luncheon-time⁠—it was three o’clock before they had done. What does your arithmetic say, Rosanna? Mine says the door was dry by three this morning.’

“ ‘Did some of the ladies go upstairs yesterday evening to see it?’ I asked. ‘I thought I heard Miss Rachel warning them to keep clear of the door.’

“ ‘None of the ladies made the smear,’ Penelope answered. ‘I left Miss Rachel in bed at twelve last night. And I noticed the door, and there was nothing wrong with it then.’

“ ‘Oughtn’t you to mention this to Mr. Seegrave, Penelope?’

“ ‘I wouldn’t say a word to help Mr. Seegrave for anything that could be offered to me!’

“She went to her work, and I went to mine.

“My work, sir, was to make your bed, and to put your room tidy. It was the happiest hour I had in the whole day. I used to kiss the pillow on which your head had rested all night. No matter