Not Pretty, But Precious.
Mille modi veneris!
Part I.
Mr. Norval: It is now four weeks since your accident. I have made inquiryof your physician whether news or business communications, howeverimportant, brought to your attention, would be detrimental to you, causean accession of feverish symptoms or otherwise harm you. He assures me, Onthe contrary, he is sure you have not been for years so free from diseaseof any sort, with the sole exception of the broken bones, as now. Thisbeing so, I venture to approach you upon a subject which I doubt not youare quite as willing to have definitely arranged, and at once, as myself.I can say what I mean, and as I mean it, so much better on paper than inconversation--as I have so little self-possession, and am so readily putout in the matter of argument--that I have determined to write to you,thinking thus to be better able to make you understand and appreciate myreasons and motives, since you can read them when and how you choose.
I have been your wife three weeks. The horrible strangeness of these wordsis quite beyond me to compass; nevertheless, realize it or not, it is afact. I am your wife--you, my husband. Why I am your wife I wish simply torehearse here. Not that we do not both know why, but that we may know itin the same way. You, a handsome, cultivated man, whose dictum isconsidered law in the world of fashion in which you move and reign, withan assured social position, a handsome fortune, and a popularity thatwould have obtained for you the hand of any beautiful or wealthy womanwhom you sought, have deliberately chosen to make me, a poor, plain,brown-faced little school-teacher, your wife. Not because you wanted me,not because you thought or cared about me, one way or the oth