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UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 (1)
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University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 (1)
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1Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 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.
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