It was a terrible job;--perhaps the most difficult of all the difficult tasks which her adverse fate had imposed upon her. She found when she did attempt it, that she could have done it better if she had done it at the moment when she was writing the other letter to her cousin George. Then Kate had been near her, and she had been comforted by Kate's affectionate happiness. She had been strengthened at that moment by a feeling that she was doing the best in her power, if not for herself, at any rate for others. All that comfort and all that strength had left her now. The atmosphere of the fells had buoyed her up, and now the thick air of London depressed her. She sat for hours with the pen in her hand, and could not write the letter. She let a day go by and a night, and still it was not written. She hardly knew herself in her unnatural weakness. As the mental photographs of the two men forced themselves upon her, she could not force herself to forget those words--"Look here, upon this picture--and on this." 
It was a terrible job; perhaps the most difficult of all the difficult tasks which she had faced. She felt that it would have been easier if Kate had been nearby, as she was when Alice wrote the other letter to her cousin George. Then she had been comforted by Kate's affectionate happiness, and strengthened by a feeling that she was doing the best, if not for herself, then for others.
All that comfort and strength had left her now. The atmosphere of the fells had buoyed her up, and now the thick air of London depressed her. She sat for hours with the pen in her hand, and could not write. As the mental photographs of the two men forced themselves upon her, she could not help comparing them. 