Verena in the Midst: A Kind of a StoryLucas, E. V. (Edward Verrall)
General
Verena in the Midst: A Kind of a Story
Lucas, E. V. (Edward Verrall)
England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Epistolary fiction; Invalids -- Fiction
That’s all.
_End of Number 1 of THE BEGUILER; or THE INVALID’S FRIEND._
LXIV
VERENA RABY TO EVANGELINE BARRANCE
MY DEAR EVANGELINE,—_The Beguiler_ is by far the best magazine I ever
read. I prefer it to all others, and if I were allowed to get up I should
try it in my bath; but I can’t yet and therefore have to be washed by a
nurse. I never knew before that flowers wielded such graceful pens and
the next time I go into the garden—which I hope will be this year—I shall
walk up and down the borders with a new respect for them.
_The Invalid’s Friend_ has served its purpose wonderfully. I have read
it three times with delight. It has made all its rivals on my table here
look very foolish—the _Nineteenth Century_ is conscious, beside it, of
being too wordy, and _Blackwood’s_ of being without method, and the
_Cornhill_ of coming out too often, with a vulgar frequency, and the
_Strand_ of being too serious.
I am very proud of having a niece who is also such an editor. The only
reason in the world why I don’t want to get well instantly is because I
want to read the next number.—Your affectionate and grateful aunt.
VERENA, B.I.
(_Beguiled Invalid_)
LXV
JOSEY RABY TO VERENA RABY
DEAREST OF AUNTS,—Now you are up to writing letters, I do wish you would
send a line to father to try and make him more reasonable. He actually
takes up the line that no girl should marry under the age of twenty-one
and then not before she has known the man for a year. Just think of being
so out-of-date as that! And he is so sensible in almost every other way,
except about ices.
There are some men of course who need time for knowing, but Vincent is
not one of them. I feel that I have known him all my life, although it is
really only two months, but then he is so simple and open. If he weren’t,
he wouldn’t call me his Sphinx, would he? For there is nothing mysterious
about me really.
Don’t you think that our first duty is to ourselves and that the
fulfilment of ourselves is sacred? I do, and I can fulfil myself only by
marrying Vincent. Do, do help me!—Your loving
J.
LXVI
VERENA RABY TO JOSEY RABY
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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