54
During the years over which my separation from these children extended, several attempts were made by Mr Norton either to compel me to his own terms, or to bring about a reconciliation. In the Spring immediately following the Trial (after ray first efforts to obtain my children had been rejected) I suddenly received from him a most extraordinary note, saying, that he considered our differences "capable of adjustment," and hoped I would meet him alone, in an empty house, No. 1 Berkeley street, where he would wait for me. I received this communication with doubt and distrust; increased rather than diminished by the impatience shown by Mr Norton to obtain an answer, for which he sent twice in the course of the afternoon. He then wrote to say, that "nothing could be effected without mutual confidence," and as he could not come to my uncle's house (whore I lived) he hoped I would come to his own residence. This I consented to do. We had a long wretched interview. He besought me once more, to "forget the past" and return home. He laid the blame of all that had happened, on his friends and advisers; said the trial was against his will and judgment, and that he longed to "take me to his heart again." He complained of the coldness with which I received these proposals; but I did not refuse. He recalled ray poor children from Scotland; and sent notes almost daily to my house. Those letters began, "My Carry," "My dear Carry," and were signed, "Yours affectionately." Two of them (in allusion to my fear of meeting him) bore the playful signature of "Greenacre,"—the name of a man who had been recently hung, for enticing a woman to his house by promising marriage, and then murdering and cutting her into pieces.
After a month of this strange correspondence, I received a note from him, to say that his sister had arrived to stay with him. A dispute followed, as to what I had or had not said to this lady. Mr Norton complained that I had stated to her I did not intend " honestly" to return to him; but "to re-
