Oh, what shall I say, what shall I say! How can I make you see the truth?
God help us if I do not; for such an act as this on your part would put an impassable gulf between our souls for ever.

Your loving, "MERCY." Stephen's letter was in curter phrase.

Writing was not to him a natural form of expression.

Even of joyous or loving words he was chary, and much more so of their opposites.

His life-long habit of repression of all signs of annoyance, all complaints, all traces of suffering, told still more on his written words than on his daily speech and life.