Adultery -- Fiction; Artists -- Fiction; Illegitimate children -- Fiction; Painters -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
“DEAR, SWEET JENNY MINE,—You must not be angry with me for not
answering your last letter before. Every day I meant to write,
but it never came off. I am so pleased that you are back in
Rome and are working, and have Gunnar to be with.
“We are back in Stockholm living in the old place. It was quite
impossible to stay in the cottage when it got cold; it was so
draughty that we could only get warm in the kitchen. We would
buy it if we could afford it, but it would cost too much; it
wants so much done to it. The garret would have to be made
into a studio for Lennart, stoves would be wanted, and lots
of other things—but we have rented it for next summer, and I
am so happy about it, for there is no place in the world I
love more. You cannot imagine anything more beautiful than the
west coast; it is so bleak and poor and weather-worn—the grey
cliffs with scraggy copse in the crevices, the woodbine, the
poor little cottages, the sea, and the wonderful sky. I have
made some pictures out there and people say they are good, and
Lennart and I have enjoyed it so much. We are always friends
now, and when he thinks I am good, he kisses me and calls me
a little mermaid and all kinds of nice names, and I suppose I
shall grow very fond of him in time. We are back in town again
and our journey to Paris will not come off this time, but I
don’t mind a bit. It seems almost heartless of me to write
about it to you, for you are so much better than I, and it was
so dreadfully sad that you should lose your little boy—and I
don’t think I really deserve to be so happy and get what I have
wished for more than anything—but I am going to have a baby.
I have only five months to wait. I could scarcely believe it
at first, but now it is certain enough. I tried to hide it
from Lennart as long as possible—you see, I was so ashamed of
myself for having deceived him twice, and I was afraid of being
mistaken. When he began to suspect it I denied it first, but I
had to confess to it later. I cannot realize that I am to have
a little boy—Lennart says he would rather have another little
Cesca, but I think he says it only to console me beforehand in
case it is, for I am sure in his heart he wants a boy. However,
if it is a girl, we shall be just as fond of her—and once we
have got one child we might get some more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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