The Destruction of Dreams — The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

Helen writes in the drawing-room on 10 January 1827, believing Huntingdon asleep on the sofa behind her. He has risen unknown to her and read over her shoulder. When she reaches for the diary he seizes it, sits by the fire, and turns back leaf after leaf while she snatches, upbraids, and finally puts out both candles. Sober that night, he is lucid enough to follow every word. He demands her keys, threatens to send Rachel packing if the girl withholds them, and walks into the library. There he finds her painting materials laid for the next day's work and throws palette, paints, bladders, pencils, brushes, and varnish into the fire. Benson, aghast, is ordered to take easel, canvas, and even the half-finished picture for kindling. Helen tells him to obey.

Huntingdon returns from upstairs and laughs in her face with the candle; she dashes it to the floor. He throws the keys into her lap. Money, jewels, and a few trifles are gone, lest her mercantile spirit turn them into gold. He puts her on a small monthly allowance, will hire a steward, and orders Mrs Greaves to keep stricter household accounts. He has read her plan to run away, turn artist, and raise their son away from such a gentleman as his father, and he jeers that women must blab even if they only write secrets on sand.

Helen recovers the manuscript from the drawing-room table rather than watch him amuse himself over pages written when she still loved him. He curses Rachel as a sneak who would do more mischief out of the house than in it. In the morning the secret hope that had kept her going is gone. She wanders restless, shunning husband and child, a slave and prisoner who may not rescue her son from ruin. Faith fails her under wormwood bitterness, even as she tries to remember that grief is not the last word God speaks.