The Weight of Silence

I knew my silence disquieted them; and I well remembered the words of my father: “I know

that while you are pleased with yourself, you will think of us with affection, and we shall hear

regularly from you. You must pardon me, if I regard any interruption in

your correspondence as a proof that your other duties are equally neglected.” I knew well therefore

what would be my father’s feelings; but I could not tear my thoughts from my employment,

loathsome in itself, but which had taken an irresistible hold of my imagination. I wished,

as it were, to procrastinate all that related to my feelings of affection until

the great object, which swallowed up every habit of my nature, should be completed.