You have been very kind to me, and I think it due to you to explain why I seem so presumptuous in interfering with your penitent. It is a most painful position for me, and I write in all confidence to you, as I can ill bear appearing deceitful and ungrateful. I know her disposition now more that I ever did before, I see that she hardlyp2knows her own mind for an hour together which has greatly mislead me into forming wrong conclusions. She will herself tell you . She wrote to my Director[1] for advice, but neither he nor anyone can understand her without a full time for finding out the weakness of character which leads her into so many difficulties. She is only constant to one thing and that is to a sweet holy life!, to all else she varies like the wind. My father has not replied to her letter yet, he willp3feel difficulty. I intend writing (a similar letter to this) to him for since knowing more of her I cannot help thinking Bruges is a better place for her, under your care who know her so well, than London. She is not fitted to train young people being too soft and easy, I seem too bold to judge so much, but I think you would agree with me if you saw more into it. She may win their hearts, but it is to herself, not to God, though she has the holiest, purest intentions, and unintentionally she weakens instead of strengthening Mary[2] because she pets and scolds withoutp4reason at times. I hope God and you will forgive me if I am wanting in humility in saying all this, I know I do it with a good intention, which is to ask your pardon if I have given my opinion too freely to her, she pressed me so much, and I, not seeing so much as I now do, of her character, gave it according to the impression she gave me, but I can no longer feel confidence in her impressions for she changes them so often! I am no longer asking her to return with me to London. It was her own proposition, which I certainly seconded, because of the good reasonsp52she gave me for doing so, but I do not think that if she did come, she would endure the life long. I feel she is, unknown perhaps to herself, wedded to Bruges. I had a letter from my spiritual father directly I came, forbidding me to join her in the work so near your heart, no doubt he had good reasons, and this will account for my holding aloof from it. I think we are both too weak and easy to do any real solid good in such ap6good undertaking, we are too much alike, we both need a firm sensible hand over us!, and are not fitted for more than to be under others. I am now going to be passive in Gods Hand as to the movements of my dear friend, if He still determines her to accompany me it will be for some good, though I think you will soon see her back again! I see no other step for me to take than to resume a situation there which has been pressed on me.