"stoker-dracula-168" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stoker Bram)

"My dearest Mina,-

"I must say you tax me very unfairly with being a bad correspondent.
I wrote to you twice since we parted, and your last letter was only
your second. Besides, I have nothing to tell you. There is really
nothing to interest you. Town is very pleasant just now, and we go a
good 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. Some one 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 excellent 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 says 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; 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, I must stop. Good-night. Bless me in your prayers; and, Mina,
pray for my happiness.

"Lucy.

"P.S.- I need not tell you this is a secret. Good-night again.

"L."