Being a German, she put by money, and let her husband know it. But
in the seventh year of her enforced widowhood her letters began to
undergo subtle changes, one after another.
First there were little exhibitions of impatience. Then there were signs
of languor and a diminution of gush.
Then there were stronger protestations of affection than ever.
Then there were mixed with these protestations queries whether the
truest affection was not that which provided for the interests of the
beloved person.
Then in the eighth year of Monckton's imprisonment she added to remarks
of the above kind certain confessions that she was worn out with
anxieties, and felt her lonely condition; that youth and beauty did not
last forever; that she had let slip opportunities of doing herself
substantial service, and him too, if he could look at things as coolly
now as he used to; and she began to think she had done wrong.
This line once adopted was never given up, though it was accompanied
once or twice with passionate expressions of regret at the vanity of
long-cherished hopes.
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