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 send letters, for what I have heard and read has struck me like a thunderbolt. You do not bid me write again, my little mother"—here he uses one of the caressing untranslatable Polish diminutives. "I see that you have been prevailed upon by his [her husband's] persuasions. I see that I shall be parted from her for ever. &hellip; I will always act according to the bidding of the mother who is mine and the mother of her who will always be in my heart. I will write no more and will not visit at her house, that the sight of her shall not be as poison to me. &hellip; However, may the all High Providence bless you; and now I can write no more."

He then went off to manœuvres. But the lovers had by no means given up hope. They continued their correspondence, and Kościuszko, at Tekla's suggestion and subject to her approval, sent her a letter which he had drawn up for her father with a formal request for her hand.

The father returned an unmitigated refusal, repeating the absurd charge that Kościuszko had intended to abduct his daughter. To this Kościuszko replied with dignity and respect, ending with the words:

"If I cannot gain for myself your favour, if I do not win for myself the hope of gaining her I love, if I do not receive the title so honourable for me of your son and am not to be made happy, at least I look for the approbation of an honest man."

Żurowski's answer was to remove his family to his Galician estate. Kościuszko wrote joint letters to the mother, whom he still fondly terms his