The Sun.
London, England, 1857-07-06 00:00:00

won't be long. . . . Do not weep, darling, fond
husband, it makes me sad to think you weep. Do not
do it, darling ; a fond embrace and dear kiss to pin,
sweet and much beloved Emile. Our intimacy has not
been criminal, as I am your wife before Go.i, so it has
been no sin our loving each other. No, darling, fond
Emile, lam your wife. I shall cease to be childish and
thoughtless ; I shall do all I can to please you, and re-
tain you truly, dear, fond love. You know I have
wished as much as you do to give you my likeness, but I
have not had an opportunity. I promise to you you
shall have it some day, so that promise won't be broken.
If I did not sign my name it was for no reason ; unless
it is a stranger, I never do pot Smith, only Madeleine.
You shall, dear love, have all your letters back. Emile,
love, you are wrong. If I did feel cool towards you in
winter I never gave thought of love to any other. No
other image has ever filled my heart since I knew you."

No. 47, in envelope with postmark, " Helens-
burgh, August 11, 1856"

" Wednesday afternoon.
" Beloved and ever dear Emile,—All by myself. So I
shall write to you, my dear husband. Your visit of last
night is over. I longed for it. How fast it passed ! It
looked but a few minutes ere you left me. You did look
cross at first, but, thank Heaven, you looked yourself
ere you left—your old smile Dear fond Emile, I love
you more and more. Emile, I know you will pot go far
away from me. lam your wife. You cannot leave me
for ever. Could you, Emile ! I spoke in jest of your go-
ing last night, for I do not think you will go very far
away from rne, Rude, your wife. Would you leave me
end my days in misery ? For I can never be the wife
of another atter our intimacy."
No. 49, in envelope, postmarks all illegible :
" Thursday evening.
"My own dear Emile—How must I thank you for yeah
kind dear letter. Accept a fond embrace and dear kisses,
and assurances that I love you as much as ever, and have
never regretted what has occurred. . . I did tell
you at one time that I did not like Minnoch, but he was
so pleasant that he quite raised himself in my estimation."
No. 53, in envelope with postmark, " Helens.
burgh, October" (day and year illegible)

" Tuesday morning.
"My dear Emile,— . . . Our meeting List night
was peculiar. Emile, you are not reasonable. Ido not
wonder at your not loving me as you once did. Emile I
am not worthy of you. You deserve a better wife than
I. I see misery before me this winter. I would to God
we were not so near the M. (the Minnochs.) You shall
hear all stories and believe them. You will say lam in-
different because I shall not be able to see you much.
I forgot to tell you last night that I shall not be able of
an evening to lot you in. My room is next to 8., and
on the same flow as the front door. Ishall never be
able to spend the happy hours we did last winter. Our
letters I don't see how lam able to do. M. will
watch every post. I intended to speak to you of all
this last night, but we were so engaged otherwise."

No. 57, postmark of envelope "Glasgow, Novem-
ber" (day and yearillegible) :
" Friday night, 12 o'clock.
"My own (lading, my dearest Emile,—l would have
written you ere this, but as I did not intend to be
out till Saturday I saw no use in writin4 Sweet
love you should get those brown envelopes, they would
not be so much seen as white ones put down into my
window. You should just stoop down to tie your shoe
and then slip it in." .

Several letters follow, which are chiefly taken up
with directions as t how they shall communicate
with each other by the back door or her b,,dro.,m
window, the family being now in Blythswood-
square. In No. 67, posted at Glasgow, Dec. 5,
1856, she says—
"
• • • • I wept for hours after I received your
letter, and this day I have been sad, yes, very sad. My
Emile, I love you and you only. I have tried to assure
you no other one has a place in my heart. It was Min-
noch that was at the concert with me. You see I would
not hide that from you. Emile, he is papa's friend, and
I know he will have him at the house ; but need you
mind that when I have told you I have no-regard for
him ? It is only you, my Emile, that I love; you should
not mind public report. You know lam your wife, and
that we shall shortly•be united ; so it matters not. I
promised you I should be seen as little in public with
him as I could. I have avoided him at all times. But
I could not on Wednesday night; so, sweet love, be
reasonable." _ _ _

No. 75, in envelope, with postmark, " Glasgow,
Dec. 19, 1856 :"
"My beloved, my darling.—Do you for a second
think I could feel happy this evening, knowing you were
in low spirits, and that lam the cause ! On, why was
I ever born to annoy you, best arid dearest of men ?
Do you not wish—oh yes I full well I know you often
wish you had never known me. I thought I was doipg
all I could to please you. But no. Wbee.shall I ever
be what you wirh me to be!. -NeNer I Never !
will you never trust me—She wti9 is id' he your wife !
You will not believe me. You ixsty heard I took
M. to the concert against his inclination, and forced him
to go. I told you the right way when I wrote. But
from your statement in your letter of to•night you did
not believe my word. Emile, I would not have done
this to you. Even now, I would write and tell you I
would believe. I would not believe every idle report.
No I I would not. I would, my beloved Emile, be-
lieve my husband's word before any other. But you
always listen to reports about me if they are bad."
No. 95, the envelope with postmark " Glasgow,
21st Jan., 1857 :"
"My dearest Emile.— . . . Why no letter, pet,
on Monday night ? It was such a dissappointment to
your Mimi. I cannot see you on Thursday, as I hoped.
Jack is out at a party, and the boy will sit up for him,
so I cannot see you. A better chance may 80011 occur,
my dear pet.

" Mina."
In No. 97, dated Sunday night, half-past 7, she
says :
" Emile, my own beloved, you have just left me. Oh,
sweet darling, my heart and soul burns with love for you,
my husband. What would I not give at this moment
to be your fond wife ? But, oh sweet love, I dearly
love you, and long with heart and soul to be your wife.
I never felt so restless and unhappy as I have done for
some time past. I would do anything to keep sad
thoughts from my mind. A dark spot is in my future.
What can it be? Oh, God, keep it from us, and may
we be happy. I weep to think of our fate. If we could
only be married all would be well ; but alas ! alas ! I
see no chance of happiness for me
" MIMI L'ANGELIER."

"I trust that you may yet be happy, and get one
more worthy of you than I. "am, &c., 4, ju.,,
" Tharsday, 7 o'clock.
"You may be astonished at this sudden change, but
for some time back you must have noticed a coolness in
my notes. My love for you.has ceased, and that is why
I was cod. I did once love you truly and fondly, but
for some time back I have lost much of that love. There
is no other reason for my conduct, and I think it but
fair to let you know this. I might have gone on, and
become youi wife, but I could not have loved you as I
ought. My conduct you will condeme, but I did at one
time love you with heart and soul. It has cost me much
to tell you this—sleepiOss nights—but it was necessary
you should know. If youremain in Glasgow, or go
away, I hope you may succee4 in all your endeavours. I
know you will never injure the character of one you so
fondly loved. No, Emile, I know .cou have honour and
are a gentleman. What has passed you will not mention.
I know when I ask you that you will corn}: l9•—Adieu."

No. 103 (Feb. 9) complains of no answcr having
been received, but 105, evidently written next day,
acknowledges L'Angelier's answer as follows
" Monday night.
" Emile,—l have just had your note. Emile, for the
love you once had for me do nothing till I see you. For
God's sake do not bring your once loved Mimi to an
open shame. Emile, I have deceived you. I have de.-
ceived my mother. God knows she did not boast of auy
thing I had said of you, for the poor woman thought I
had broken off with you last winter. I deceived you
by telling you she still knew of our engagement. Sne
did not. This I now confess, and as for wishing for an
engagement with another, I do not fancy she ever
thought of it. Emile, write to no one—to papa or any
other. 0 ! do not till I see you on Wednesday night.
It would break my mother's heart. On, Emile,
be not harsh to me. I am the most guilty, miserable
wretch on the face of the earth. Emile, do not drive me
to death. When I ceased to love you, believe me it was
not to love another. lam free from all engagement at
present. Emile, for God's sake do not send my letters
to papa ;it will be an open rupture. I will leave the
house. I will die. Etnile, do nothing till I see you.
One word to morrow night at my window to tell me,
or I shall go mad. Emile, you did love me. I aid
fondly, truly love you too. On, dear Emile, be not so
harsh to me. Will you not, but I cannot ask forgive-
ness—l am too guilty for that. I have deceived. It was
love for you at the time made me say mamma knew of
our engagement. To-morrow one word, and on Wed-
nesday we meet. I would not again ask you to love me
for I knew you could not. But oh, Etnile, do not make
me go mad. I will you that only myself and C. H. knew
of my engagement to you. Mamma did not know since
last winter. Pray for me—for a guilty wretch—but do
nothing. Oh, Emile, do nothing. Ten o'clock to-
morrow night—one line for the love of God."
"Tuesday Morning.
"I am ill. God knows what I have suffered. My
punishment is more than I can bear. Da nothing till I
see you. Fur the love of heaven do nothing. I am mad.
I am ill.

No. 107 has no postmark :
" Tuesday evening, 12 o'clock.
" Emile,—l have this night received your note. Oh,
it is kind of you to write to me. Emile, no one can
know the intense agony of mind I have suffered last
night and to•day. Emile, my father's wrath would kill
me—you little know his temper. Emile, for the love
you once had for me, do not denounce me to my P.
Emile, if he should read my letters to you he will put
me from him—he will hate me as a guilty wretch. I
loved you and wrote to you in my first ardent love—it
was with my deepest love I loved you. It was for
your love I adored you. I pat on paper what I should
nut. I was free because I loved you with my heart,
If he or any other one saw those fond letters to you,
what would not be said of me On my beaded knees
I write to you, and a'k you as you hope for mercy on
the judgment day, do not inform against me—do not
make me a public shame. Emile, my love has been one
of bitter disappointment. You and only you can make
the rest of my life peaceful. My own conscience will
be a punishment that I shall carry to my grave. I
deceived the best of risen. You may forgive me, but
God never will. Fur God's love, forgive me, and be-
tray me not. For the love you once had for me do not
bring down my father's wrath on me. It will kill my
mother (who is not well). It will for ever muse me