His altered face evinced the calmness of despair.
"You will have to write a letter to Fernanda to bade her farewell."
"I will write it."
"Now, at once."
"Now, at once."
Amalia went to the stairs and asked Jacoba for a writing-case. As there was no table there, she put it on the chest of drawers. The count approached and began to write standing. Amalia approached too.
"This is what I want you to write to her."
It was the rough draft of the letter. The count cast his eye over it.
"My good friend Fernanda," it ran, "I wanted you to be away so as to tell you in writing what would be beyond my powers to say to you. I cannot be yours. It is not necessary to give you the reasons because you will guess them. Would that I loved you enough to ignore everything and fly with you! Unfortunately, or fortunately, there are things that weigh on my heart more than love. Pardon me for having deceived you and try to be happy as it is the wish of your best friend.
"Luis."