from Miss Lucy Westenra
to Miss Mina Murray
Thanks, and thanks, and thanks again for your sweet letter. It was
so nice to be able to tell you and to have your sympathy.
My dear, it never
rains but it pours. How true the old proverbs are. Here am I, who shall be twenty
in September, and yet I never had a proposal till today, not a real proposal,
and today I had three. Just fancy! Three proposals in one day! Isn't it awful!
I feel sorry, really and truly sorry, for two of the poor fellows. Oh, Mina, I
am so happy that I don't know what to do with myself. And three proposals! But,
for goodness' sake, don't tell any of the girls, or they would be getting all
sorts of extravagant ideas, and imagining themselves injured and slighted if in
their very first day at home they did not get six at least. Some girls are so
vain! You and I, Mina dear, who are engaged and are going to settle down soon
soberly into old married women, can despise vanity. Well, I must tell you about
the three, but you must keep it a secret, dear, from every one except, of course,
Jonathan. You will tell him, because I would, if I were in your place, certainly
tell Arthur. A woman ought to tell her husband everything. Don't you think so,
dear? And I must be fair. Men like women, certainly their wives, to be quite as
fair as they are. And women, I am afraid, are not always quite as fair as they
Well, my dear, number One came just before lunch. I told you
of him, Dr. John Seward, the lunatic asylum man, with the strong jaw and the good
forehead. He was very cool outwardly, but was nervous all the same. He had evidently
been schooling himself as to all sorts of little things, and remembered them,
but he almost managed to sit down on his silk hat, which men don't generally do
when they are cool, and then when he wanted to appear at ease he kept playing
with a lancet in a way that made me nearly scream. He spoke to me, Mina, very
straightfordwardly. He told me how dear I was to him, though he had known me so
little, and what his life would be with me to help and cheer him. He was going
to tell me how unhappy he would be if I did not care for him, but when he saw
me cry he said he was a brute and would not add to my present trouble. Then he
broke off and asked if I could love him in time, and when I shook my head his
hands trembled, and then with some hesitation he asked me if I cared already for
any one else. He put it very nicely, saying that he did not want to wring my confidence
from me, but only to know, because if a woman's heart was free a man might have
hope. And then, Mina, I felt a sort of duty to tell him that there was some one.
I only told him that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong and
very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy,
and that if I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best.
Mina dear, I can't help crying, and you must excuse this letter being all blotted.
Being proposed to is all very nice and all that sort of thing, but it isn't at
all a happy thing when you have to see a poor fellow, whom you know loves you
honestly, going away and looking all broken hearted, and to know that, no matter
what he may say at the moment, you are passing out of his life. My dear, I must
stop here at present, I feel so miserable, though I am so happy.
has just gone, and I feel in better spirits than when I left off, so I can go
on telling you about the day.
Well, my dear, number Two came after lunch.
He is such a nice fellow, and American from Texas, and he looks so young and so
fresh that it seems almost impossible that he has been to so many places and has
such adventures. I sympathize with poor Desdemona when she had such a stream poured
in her ear, even by a black man. I suppose that we women are such cowards that
we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him. I know now what I would
do if I were a man and wanted to make a girl love me. No, I don't, for there was
Mr. Morris telling us his stories, and Arthur never told any, and yet . . .
dear, I am somewhat previous. Mr. Quincy P. Morris found me alone. It seems that
a man always does find a girl alone. No, he doesn't, for Arthur tried twice to
make a chance, and I helping him all I could, I am not ashamed to say it now.
I must tell you beforehand that Mr. Morris doesn't always speak slang, that is
to say, he never does so to strangers or before them, for he is really well educated
and has exquisite manners, but he found out that it amused me to hear him talk
American slang, and whenever I was present, and there was no one to be shocked,
he said such funny things. I am afraid, my dear, he has to invent it all, for
it fits exactly into whatever else he has to say. But this is a way slang has.
I do not know myself if I shall ever speak slang. I do not know if Arthur likes
it, as I have never heard him use any as yet.
Well, Mr. Morris sat down
beside me and looked as happy and jolly as he could, but I could see all the same
that he was very nervous. He took my hand in his, and said ever so sweetly . .
"Miss Lucy, I know I ain't good enough to regulate the fixin's of
your little shoes, but I guess if you wait till you find a man that is you will
go join them seven young women with the lamps when you quit. Won't you just hitch
up along-side of me and let us go down the long road together, driving in double
Well, he did look so hood humoured and so jolly that it
didn't seem half so hard to refuse him as it did poor Dr. Seward. So I said, as
lightly as I could, that I did not know anything of hitching, and that I wasn't
broken to harness at all yet. Then he said that he had spoken in a light manner,
and he hoped that if he had made a mistake in doing so on so grave, so momentous,
and occasion for him, I would forgive him. He really did look serious when he
was saying it, and I couldn't help feeling a sort of exultation that he was number
Two in one day. And then, my dear, before I could say a word he began pouring
out a perfect torrent of love-making, laying his very heart and soul at my feet.
He looked so earnest over it that I shall never again think that a man must be
playful always, and never earnest, because he is merry at times. I suppose he
saw something in my face which checked him, for he suddenly stopped, and said
with a sort of manly fervour that I could have loved him for if I had been free
. . .
"Lucy, you are an honest hearted girl, I know. I should not be
here speaking to you as I am now if I did not believe you clean grit, right through
to the very depths of your soul. Tell me, like one good fellow to another, is
there any one else that you care for? And if there is I'll never trouble you a
hair's breadth again, but will be, if you will let me, a very faithful friend."
dear Mina, why are men so noble when we women are so little worthy of them? Here
was I almost making fun of this great hearted, true gentleman. I burst into tears,
I am afraid, my dear, you will think this a very sloppy letter in more ways than
one, and I really felt very badly.
Why can't they let a girl marry three
men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble? But this is heresy, and
I must not say it. I am glad to say that, though I was crying, I was able to look
into Mr. Morris' brave eyes, and I told him out straight . . .
there is some one I love, though he has not told me yet that he even loves me."
I was right to speak to him so frankly, for quite a light came into his face,
and he put out both his hands and took mine, I think I put them into his, and
said in a hearty way . . .
"That's my brave girl. It's better worth
being late for a chance of winning you than being in time for any other girl in
the world. Don't cry, my dear. If it's for me, I'm a hard nut to crack , and I
take it standing up. If that other fellow doesn't know his happiness, well, he'd
better look for it soon, or he'll have to deal with me. Little girl, your honesty
and pluck have made me a friend, and that's rarer than a lover, it's more selfish
anyhow. My dear, I'm going to have a pretty lonely walk between this and Kingdom
Come. Won't you give me one kiss? It'll be something to keep off the darkness
now and then. You can, you know, if you like, for that other good fellow, or you
could not love him, hasn't spoken yet."
That quite won me, Mina, for
it was brave and sweet of him, and noble too, to a rival, wasn't it? And he so
sad, so I leant over and kissed him.
He stood up with my two hands in his,
and as he looked down into my face, I am afraid I was blushing very much, he said,
"Little girl, I hold your hand, and you've kissed me, and if these things
don't make us friends nothing ever will. Thank you for your sweet honesty to me,
and goodbye." He wrung my hand, and taking up his hat, went straight out
of the room without looking back, without a tear or a quiver or a pause, and I
am crying like a baby.
Oh, why must a man like that be made unhappy when
there are lots of girls about who would worship the very ground he trod on? I
know I would if I were free, only I don't want to be free. My dear, this quite
upset me, and I feel I cannot write of happiness just at once, after telling you
of it, and I don't wish to tell of the number Three until it can be all happy.
Ever your loving . . .
P.S.--Oh, about number Three, I needn't
tell you of number Three, need I? Besides, it was all so confused. It seemed only
a moment from his coming into the room till both his arms were round me, and he
was kissing me. I am very, very happy, and I don't know what I have done to deserve
it. I must only try in the future to show that I am not ungrateful to God for
all His goodness to me in sending to me such a lover, such a husband, and such
a friend. Goodbye.