"I let you go as a babe, because you were pretty, and I feared your loveliness, deeming it the stamp of perversity. They sent me your portrait, taken at eight years old; that portrait confirmed my fears. Had it shown me a sunburnt little rustic--a heavy, blunt-featured, commonplace child--I should have hastened to claim you; but there, under the silver paper, I saw blooming the delicacy of an aristocratic flower--'little lady' was written on every trait. I had too recently crawled from under the yoke of the fine gentleman--escaped galled, crushed, paralyzed, dying--to dare to encounter his still finer and most fairy-like representative. My sweet little lady overwhelmed me with dismay; her air of native elegance froze my very marrow. In my experience I had not met with truth, modesty, good principle as the concomitants of beauty. A form so straight and fine, I argued, must conceal a mind warped and cruel. I had little faith in the power of education to rectify such a mind; or rather, I entirely misdoubted my own ability to influence it. Caroline, I dared not undertake to rear you. I resolved to leave you in your uncle's hands. 
"I let you go as a babe, because you were pretty, and I feared your loveliness, deeming it the stamp of perversity. They sent me your portrait, taken at eight years old; it confirmed my fears. Had it shown me a heavy, blunt-featured, commonplace child, I should have hastened to claim you; but I saw the delicacy of an aristocratic flower - a 'little lady'. I had too recently crawled from under the yoke of the fine gentleman - escaped crushed and paralysed - to dare to meet his still finer representative. My sweet little lady overwhelmed me with dismay; her air of elegance froze my marrow. In my experience, truth had not gone along with beauty. A form so straight and fine, I argued, must conceal a mind warped and cruel. I resolved to leave you in your uncle's hands. 