Town is very pleasant just now, and we go a great deal to picture-galleries and for
walks and rides in the park. As to the tall, curly-haired man, I suppose it was the one
who was with me at the last Pop. Someone has evidently been telling tales.
That was Mr. Holmwood. He often comes to see us, and he and Mamma get on very
well together, they have so many things to talk about in common. We met some time
ago a man that would just do for you, if you were not already engaged to Jonathan. He
is an excellant parti, being handsome, well off, and of good birth. He is a doctor and
really clever. Just fancy! He is only nine-and twenty, and he has an immense lunatic
asylum all under his own care. Mr. Holmwood introduced him to me, and he called here
to see us, and often comes now. I think he is one of the most resolute men I ever saw,
and yet the most calm. He seems absolutely imperturbable. I can fancy what a
wonderful power he must have over his patients. He has a curious habit of looking one
straight in the face, as if trying to read one's thoughts. He tries this on very much with
me, but I flatter myself he has got a tough nut to crack. I know that from my glass. Do
you ever try to read your own face? I do, and I can tell you it is not a bad study, and
gives you more trouble than you can well fancy if you have never tried it.
He say that I afford him a curious psychological study, and I humbly think I do. I do not,
as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions.
Dress is a bore. That is slang again, but never mind. Arthur says that every day.
There, it is all out, Mina, we have told all our secrets to each other since we were
children. We have slept together and eaten together, and laughed and cried together,
and now, though I have spoken, I would like to speak more. Oh, Mina, couldn't you
guess? I love him. I am blushing as I write, for although I think he loves me, he has not
told me so in words. But, oh, Mina, I love him. I love him! There, that does me good.
I wish I were with you, dear, sitting by the fire undressing, as we used to sit, and I
would try to tell you what I feel. I do not know how I am writing this even to you. I am
afraid to stop, or I should tear up the letter, and I don't want to stop, for I do so want to
tell you all. Let me hear from you at once, and tell me all that you think about it. Mina,
pray for my happiness.
P.S.--I need not tell you this is a secret. Goodnight again. L.
LETTER, LUCY WESTENRA TO MINA MURRAY
My dearest Mina,
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