When Hetta Carbury received that letter from her lover which was given to the reader some chapters back, it certainly did not tend in any way to alleviate her misery. Even when she had read it over half-a-dozen times, she could not bring herself to think it possible that she could be reconciled to the man. It was not only that he had sinned against her by giving his society to another woman to whom he had at any rate been engaged not long since, at the very time at which he was becoming engaged to her,--but also that he had done this in such a manner as to make his offence known to all her friends. Perhaps she had been too quick;--but there was the fact that with her own consent she had acceded to her mother's demand that the man should be rejected. The man had been rejected, and even Roger Carbury knew that it was so. After this it was, she thought, impossible that she should recall him. But they should all know that her heart was unchanged. Roger Carbury should certainly know that, if he ever asked her further question on the matter. She would never deny it; and though she knew that the man had behaved badly,--having entangled himself with a nasty American woman,--yet she would be true to him as far as her own heart was concerned.

When Hetta received the letter from Paul Montague, it did not alleviate her misery. Even when she had read it half-a-dozen times, she could not see how she could be reconciled to him.
It was not only that he had sinned against her by associating with another woman, at the very time at which he was becoming engaged to her - but also that he had done this in such a way as to make his offence known to her friends. He had been rejected, and she thought it was impossible that she should recall him. But they should all know that her heart was unchanged. Roger Carbury should certainly know it, if he ever asked her. Though she knew that Paul had behaved badly, yet she would be true to him as far as her own heart was concerned.
