Page 3: saying goodbye to our pupils, but I am certain I leave them in capable hands. But you know I have longed to see new horizons for some time, and your invitation is the occasion of that new sight. Some years ago a young man broke my heart. Upon his return from visiting family in Bath, I confessed something to Henry Stanhope (yes, you all saw through me), believing our love stronger than my past indiscretions. But at our next meeting he said little, then pressed a letter into my hands, held them tightly for a moment, and left abruptly. In this letter he assured me that our connection could not be. I can only surmise that he could not bear the possibility of my confession adding to the scandal his family was already facing. All our potential, snuffed out like an old candle.