Two o’clock
`` It seems needless enough to have written to Midwinter to-day , when he is coming back to me to-morrow night . But it was impossible to ask , what I have been obliged to ask of him , without making my false family circumstances once more the excuse ; and having this to do -- I must own the truth -- I wrote to him because , after what I suffered on the last occasion , I can never again deceive him to his face . '' `` August 9th . -- Two o'clock . -- I rose early this morning , more depressed in spirits than usual . The re-beginning of one 's life , at the re-beginning of every day , has already been something weary and hopeless to me for years past . I dreamed , too , all through the night -- not of Midwinter and of my married life , as I had hoped to dream -- but of the wretched conspiracy to discover me , by which I have been driven from one place to another , like a hunted animal .