A lady in answer to a letter in which her suitor intimates his wish to discontinue acquaintance.
Sir:
I acknowledge the receipt of your last letter, which now lies before me, and in which you convey the intimation, that the position in which, for some time past, we have regarded each other, must henceforth be abandoned.
Until the receipt of this letter, I had regarded you in the light of my future husband; you were, therefore, as you have reason to know, so completely the possessor of my affections, that I looked with indifference upon every other suitor. The remembrance of you never failed to give a fresh zest to the pleasures of life, and you were in my thoughts at the very moment in which I received your letter.
But deem me not so devoid of proper pride as to wish you to revoke your determination, from which I will not attempt to dissuade you, whether you may have made it in cool deliberation, or in precipitate haste. Sir, I shall endeavor to banish you from my affections, as readily and completely as you have banished me; and all that I shall now require from you is this, that you will return to me whatever letters you may have of mine, and which I may have written under a foolish confidence in your attachment, and when you were accredited as the future husband of,
Sir,
Yours as may be,
Henrietta Allston.
A lady on declining further addresses.
Sir:
In my behavior toward you, of late, you have no doubt observed a certain alteration in my speech and manner, amounting perhaps to coolness, or you may have thought, aversion; if so, you will be less surprised at the receipt of this letter, which is meant to intimate that your addresses to me must henceforth cease. It is true that many protestations of a sincere attachment have passed between us; but, Sir, those protestations were made under the supposition that neither party would descend to deception; this you have done; in what particular I will not advert to, since your own consciousness will not fail to satisfy you fully on that point.
The subject of my letter will not admit of my being prolix; I have, therefore, only this to add, that I expect you will return whatever letters you may have of mine in your possession. I herewith send you yours, also certain presents, which I wish no longer to regard as mine, and which I received from your hands, when I believed you incapable of deception, or of wounding the happiness of,
Sir,
Yours disappointedly,
Mary Benton.
Source: Thornwell, Emily. The Lady's Guide to Perfect Gentility. (New York: Derby & Jackson, 1857), 167-169.
Showing posts with label engagement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label engagement. Show all posts
Friday, November 8, 2013
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Etiquette for Two.
Jerry (sulkily): You're uncommonly cool tonight.
Kitty (in a fascinating spirit of mischief): Oh, no; I am simply behaving well. I have been reading "Etiquette for Young Ladies," by Aunt Margery. Young ladies should not receive gentlemen alone.
Jerry (glowering): No?
Kitty: No. Ben and Clara are out, but papa and mamma and George will be down in a minute.
Jerry (with strong displeasure): Indeed?
Kitty: You may go and lay your hat on the hall rack; or you may hold it.
Jerry: Don't trouble yourself, pray.
Kitty: Oh, I don't mean to. It is not proper for a young lady to dispose of a gentleman's hat. It is only a shade less improper than helping him on with his overcoat.
Jerry (with heavy gloom): You've always done that for me.
Kitty: I blush to think of it. Aunt Margery would have been horrified beyond expression if she had seen me. But the worst thing, positively the most shocking, is going to the door with a gentleman when he takes leave.
Jerry (with sundry sweet recollections, savagely): I am gratified to hear it.
Kitty: I knew you would be. Aunt Margery says so, and she knows. I am so glad I have learned how to behave well. I shall endeavor not to forget anything. I wonder where papa and mamma and George are? It is so improper for me to be alone here with you. (Lapses into a stiff and wrathful silence.)
Jerry (brightening, after a wrathful five minutes): I was going to remark that I have been reading "Etiquette for Young Gentlemen."
Kitty: Yes.
Kitty (in a fascinating spirit of mischief): Oh, no; I am simply behaving well. I have been reading "Etiquette for Young Ladies," by Aunt Margery. Young ladies should not receive gentlemen alone.
Jerry (glowering): No?
Kitty: No. Ben and Clara are out, but papa and mamma and George will be down in a minute.
Jerry (with strong displeasure): Indeed?
Kitty: You may go and lay your hat on the hall rack; or you may hold it.
Jerry: Don't trouble yourself, pray.
Kitty: Oh, I don't mean to. It is not proper for a young lady to dispose of a gentleman's hat. It is only a shade less improper than helping him on with his overcoat.
Jerry (with heavy gloom): You've always done that for me.
Kitty: I blush to think of it. Aunt Margery would have been horrified beyond expression if she had seen me. But the worst thing, positively the most shocking, is going to the door with a gentleman when he takes leave.
Jerry (with sundry sweet recollections, savagely): I am gratified to hear it.
Kitty: I knew you would be. Aunt Margery says so, and she knows. I am so glad I have learned how to behave well. I shall endeavor not to forget anything. I wonder where papa and mamma and George are? It is so improper for me to be alone here with you. (Lapses into a stiff and wrathful silence.)
Jerry (brightening, after a wrathful five minutes): I was going to remark that I have been reading "Etiquette for Young Gentlemen."
Kitty: Yes.
Labels:
calling,
chaperon,
engagement,
fiancee,
relationship,
visitor
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