| | 1 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Add | | | Title: | Alice May, and Bruising Bill  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | I write to avail myself of my privilege and duty as your betrothed
wife, to throw myself, at a crisis which has just occured in my life,
upon your love! A certain Count Bondier is persecuting me with
his attentions, and althogh I have in every way, not absolutely to
insult him, shown him my repugnance to his suit, and also distinctly
and firmly declined his addresses, yet he pursues them encouraged by
my father, who is warmly in favor of an alliance with his powerful
family through me. My father has just left me with the menace that
unless I will consent to marry him at the end of three months, that
he will immure me in a convent, which God knows is to be prefered.
I have asked and obtained six weeks to decide. This letter will reach
you in two. It will take three for you to reach here. I need not ask
you to fly—for my love tells me you will soon be here to claim your
own lover's bride. I have just heard something that has frozen my blood! I write, I
know not what! Do not come! I am lost to you forever! `I know not how to address you. `Dear Edward,' was flowing
from my pen—but I am unworthy to give you any endearing title. In
my last letter—it was a wild—strange one—but I was nearly mad
when I wrote it—I told you that events had transpired that rendered
it necessary for your honor and happiness that you should forget me!
I left all in mystery. But reflection has come to my aid—reason has
returned, and after hours of terrible insanity I can think and write
calmly. I did intend, Edward, to keep the dreadful secret forever
locked up in my own bosom. But this is pride; and with pride I
have no more to do. It would be cruel to you, whom my soul loves!
Oh, if I could forget—but no! I must live and remember. How
shall I relate my shame. I have sat down to do it that I might relieve
your mind from suspense, and show you I have not lightly trifled with
your love for me; for too well I know how fondly you love me. Alas,
that your noble heart had not been bestowed upon a worthier object.
But I will no longer avoid the painful subject. In three hours—tonight
at midnight I fly from my home, leaving no trace of my flight.
Before I take this step I wish you, Edward, to do me justice. Therefore
do I now write to you. You saw me first at the boarding schools
and knew me as the daughter of an opulent southern planter. You
offered me your noble love, and in return I gave you my heart. Oh,
the happiness of that hour when I first learned that you regarded me
with favor—that you loved me! But I cannot dwell upon these days
of happiness fled forever. Alas, why has heaven made me to be accursed!
Let me speak of more recent events. Let me explain to
you the meaning of the dark language of my last letter. I told you
that the only alternative of my union with the Count was to be immured
in a convent for life. I entreated you to fly to my rescue, ere
the time given me by my father for deciding between the two, elapsed.
This letter was followed in two days by another recalling my request,
and telling you that an event had occurred which rendered it necessary
that we should meet no more, that I was going to fly and hide
from the world, for I was unworthy your love or slightest regard. It
is this letter which now I am on the eve of flight I feel it my duty to
explain; then farewell forever, and forget that I have ever lived. Oh,
how can I relate my shame to him whose approbation and love I regard
next to Heaven's? But I must to my painful duty. I learn from your mother that you are out of employnent,
and from your late employer that you are an excellent printer.
I have a relative who is the editor and publisher of a literary
paper in New York who wants a partner who is a practical printer.
But little capital is required, with which if you would like the situation
(which is a profitable one and for which I think you are calculated)
I herewith make the offer of it. Pray let me hear from you tonight
that I may write to my relative. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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