LETTER THE THIRD Elliot to Mary Margaret

My sweet Mary Margate, I must warn you first to steel your kind, noble heart and to gather every wisp of courage you have sleeping within you before aiming to continue to read a most woeful tale such as mine. Steel yourself my dearest friend, for you about to be closest confidence of the misery the heavens found fit to inflict on one such as I. It is not enough that my former fiancé, the one I had thought to known truly since childhood, should so have such horrid deliberations dwelling in his breast as he spoke so sweetly to me (which I must, again, thank you, my sweet Mary Margaret, for enlightening me of his true wanton nature), nor is it enough that my coldhearted father threatened to cast me, an amiable, pious young woman such as myself whose only design was but to find a more suitably chaste partner in love, out. It is not even enough that you, my gentlest friend, must venture so far as to marry such lewd character as he in my stead. No, the heavens have found fit to continue to condone my tragic treatment. Due to the actions of my most unfeeling father, I found myself in the most pitiful of situations. I am now forced- and I do remind you to arm yourself- to help with the care of the patients at the Hospital of J-. Oh, my dearest Mary Margaret, I have never once seen such pain stricken, pitiable souls before me. You may imagine my horror at seeing such gruesome sights before me. Almost immediately upon arriving at the Hospital of J-, my delicate sensibilities were too soon pressed and overwhelmed. I, being the gentle, virtuous soul that you have grown ever so found of, could not help but to sink into a swoon. This did so continue for two hour and forty, at which time I manage to gather what little strength I had left and was able to stand with both feet firmly in consciousness. I found myself in a neatly kept little room, in a strange little white bunk, which had a cot alongside the bunk that I was presently inhabiting. Beyond that, the room was bear, save for a small dresser with a candle lit upon it. I laid there for some time in quiet contemplation, until I heard a terrible moaning sound issuing from the door of the room. Knowing I could not live in my presently thoughtful state mind without knowing from which the moaning issued, I immediately sprang up and upon throwing on a long coat, threw open the door. It opened to a long hallway with many doors alike mine throughout it. After a quick glance at the new sights that confronted my vision, I soon found the source of the moaning. A terrible sight meet my eyes. An older gentlemen was being assisted though the hall by a pair of older women. It was from him that the moaning had arisen. He was bleeding profusely from his arm, and as he passed, some drops of the blood fell upon my shoe. As you may properly assume, this was too much for a young woman possessing such delicate feelings such as I, and so my delicate sensibilities were quite overcome. I fainted soon after. Once I had finally awoken once more, I soon found that the previously empty cot was now the accompanied by a young man, who I were to dare venture a guess, had but a few more years to his name than my own. Ah, my dear Mary Margate, but that hardly mattered in the least. He must have surely been blessed by Aphrodite herself, for his beauty could have rivaled even Narcissus. I can't recall for the life of me, what came over my heart, but somehow though the nobility that shone through his face, he had won it. I spent the next several weeks caring after him, wiping sweat from his brow, airing sheets before use, and so forth. Upon careful inspection of his side of the quarters, I found a letter, and therefore learned his name. James. A truly marvelous, wonderful name indeed. As I cared after him, I could not help but imagine his reaction upon awaken and finding me, the one who looked after him so carefully, and therefore knew that upon learning this, my feelings would be almost immediately returned. As I pined for his revival, I imagined our future together as husband and wife with our many children. Alas, my dearest Mary Margaret, that such happy times must always come to a close. Once he awoke, he did instead immediately send for a Ms. Charlotte Chattoway. To my uttermost despair, I soon learned that she was his wife. After much words of gratitude were uttered to me from her, she and my most unfaithful lover left. I was left alone to sink into the deepest pits of despair.

Adieu,

Elliot