BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [2 APR. 1911]
BRACERS 17071. ALS. Morrell papers #15, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell and A.G. Bone

Fernhurst
Haslemere1^, 2
Sunday night.

My Dearest

Alys has been speaking in a most harrowing way, and has made me for the moment full of the thought of her pain. But I am sure, really, that she will be happier when she has given up the struggle to make some sort of life with me — otherwise I could not ask her to give it up. I mind her pain more than the pain of people I like better — it is like the pain of a wounded animal. At times I have thought I ought never to have told her I no longer cared for her, yet I feel that a life of active and constant hypocrisy would have been impossible and wrong. But giving pain deliberately is very terrible.

I am filled with the fear that you idealize me — I am in many ways such a poor creature. I see and love the best, and I struggle to live up to it, but over and over again I have fallen short. Faith grows cold first, and then bad acts follow. I have been troubled today by a letter which I have decided to tell you about, because it is necessary that you should not only know my best, which is what you will always see, but also what is bad. Not long ago, in a moment of folly, I kissed a woman I had known a long time, tho’ there was no pretence of real feeling on either side. Both felt shame almost at once, and agreed that it must never recur. Now, however, she wants me to go and see her in an ordinary way, and I feel I would rather be torn asunder by wild horses — I cannot express the revulsion I have at the thought. So I have written to refuse as kindly as I could. I tell you this chiefly because, if it came into my mind when I was with you, I should have a feeling of guilt which would be unbearable. For some years past my views and feelings have been growing harsh — I felt the best was not for me, and I shirked the pain — tho’ the pain always came back all the stronger in the end. But now nothing is hard. Those first days, when I wanted you to be wholly mine at all costs, my love was not the best possible, but now it is; at first I did not know you so well, and that is the whole reason. So long as you can bear with me, I shall give you absolute devotion and tenderness and reverence. But if in the end you find me not good enough, I shall feel it was only to be expected. I do not live consistently up to my best — I suppose few people do — but I know so well when I depart from it that it matters more than with some people. This is a terribly egotistic letter, but I don’t like to put anything else in the same letter with the things in this. — Tomorrow I go back to Carlyle Square. Goodbye my Dearest. I want toa be sure that you can love me without illusions — it still seems to me so incredible, and it is so infinitely precious.

B.

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  [document] Document 000015. Proofread against a colour scan of the original.

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  [envelope] A circled “15”. The Lady Ottoline Morrell | 44 Bedford Square | London W.C. Pmk: FERNHURST | AP 3 | 11. On the verso: LONDON.W.C | 8.15 PM | AP 3 |11 | 13

Textual Notes

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