CHAPTER V
Letter from Miss Mina Murray to Miss Lucy Westenra.
" 9 May.
"My dearest Lucy,-
" Forgive my long delay in writing, but I have been
simply overwhelmed with work. The life of an assistant
schoolmistress is sometimes trying . I am longing to be with
you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and
build our castles in the air. I have been working very hard
lately, because I want to keep up with Jonathan's studies,
and I have been practising shorthand very assiduously.
When we are married I shall be able to be useful to Jona-
than, and if I can stenograph well enough I can take down
what he wants to say in this way and write it out for him
on the typewriter, at which also I am practising very hard.
He and I sometimes write letters in shorthand, and he is
keeping a stenographic journal of his travels abroad. When
I am with you I shall keep a diary in the same way. I don't
mean one of those two-pages-to- the- week- with- Sunday-
squeezed-in- a-corner diaries, but a sort of journal which I
can write in whenever I feel inclined . I do not suppose
there will be much of interest to other people ; but it is not
intended for them. I may show it to Jonathan some day if
there is in it anything worth sharing, but it is really an
exercise book. I shall try to do what I see lady journalists
do : interviewing and writing descriptions and trying to
remember conversations. I am told that, with a little prac-
tice, one can remember all that goes on or that one hears
said during a day. However, we shall see. I will tell you of
my little plans when we meet. I have just had a few hur-
ried lines from Jonathan from Transylvania. He is well,
and will be returning in about a week. I am longing to
hear all his news. It must be so nice to see strange coun-
5960 DRACULA
tries. I wonder if we-I mean Jonathan and I-shall ever
see them together. There is the ten o'clock bell ringing.
Good- bye. "Your loving
"MINA.
" Tell me all the news when you write. You have not told
me anything for a long time. I hear rumours, and espe-
cially of a tall, handsome, curly-haired man ??? "
Letter, Lucy Westenra to Mina Murray.
"17, Chatham Street,
" Wednesday.
"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 noth-
ing 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 readLETTERS , ETC. 61
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 cu-
rious 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. "
Letter, Lucy Westenra to Mina Murray.
" 24 May.
"My dearest Mina,-
" Thanks, and thanks, and thanks again for your sweet
letter. It was so nice to be able to tell you and to have your
sympathy.
"My dear, it never rains but it pours. How true the old
proverbs are. Here am I , who shall be twenty in Septem-
ber, and yet I never had a proposal till to-day, not a real
proposal, and to-day I have had three. Just fancy ! THREE62 DRACULA
proposals in one day ! Isn't it awful ! I feel sorry, really and
truly sorry, for two of the poor fellows. Oh, Mina, I am
so happy that I don't know what to do with myself. And
three proposals ! But, for goodness ' sake, don't tell any of
the girls, or they would be getting all sorts of extravagant
ideas and imagining themselves injured and slighted if in
their very first day at home they did not get six at least.
Some girls are so vain ! You and I , Mina dear, who are
engaged and are going to settle down soon soberly into old
married women, can despise vanity. Well, I must tell you
about the three, but you must keep it a secret, dear, from
every one, except, of course, Jonathan . You will tell him,
because I would, if I were in your place, certainly tell
Arthur. A woman ought to tell her husband everything-
don't you think so, dear ?—and I must be fair. Men like
women, certainly their wives, to be quite as fair as they
are ; and women, I am afraid, are not always quite as fair
as they should be. Well, my dear, number One came just
before lunch. I told you of him, Dr. John Seward, the
lunatic-asylum man, with the strong jaw and the good
forehead. He was very cool outwardly, but was nervous all
the same. He had evidently been schooling himself as to all
sorts of little things, and remembered them; but he almost
managed to sit down on his silk hat, which men don't gen-
erally do when they are cool, and then when he wanted to
appear at ease he kept playing with a lancet in a way that
made me nearly scream. He spoke to me, Mina, very
straightforwardly. He told me how dear I was to him,
though he had known me so little, and what his life would
be with me to help and cheer him. He was going to tell me
how unhappy he would be if I did not care for him, but
when he saw me cry he said that he was a brute and would
not add to my present trouble. Then he broke off and asked
if I could love him in time ; and when I shook my head his
hands trembled, and then with some hesitation he asked me
if I cared already for any one else. He put it very nicely,
saying that he did not want to wring my confidence from
me, but only to know, because if a woman's heart was free
a man might have hope. And then, Mina, I felt a sort ofLETTERS , ETC. 63
duty to tell him that there was some one. I only told him
that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong
and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said
he hoped I would be happy, and that if I ever wanted a
friend I must count him one of my best. Oh, Mina dear,
I can't help crying : and you must excuse this letter being
all blotted. Being proposed to is all very nice and all that
sort of thing, but it isn't at all a happy thing when you
have to see a poor fellow, whom you know loves you hon-
estly, going away and looking all broken-hearted, and to
know that, no matter what he may say at the moment, you
are passing quite out of his life . My dear, I must stop here
at present, I feel so miserable, though I am so happy.
" Evening.
" Arthur has just gone, and I feel in better spirits than
when I left off, so I can go on telling you about the day.
Well, my dear, number Two came after lunch. He is such
a nice fellow, an American from Texas, and he looks so
young and so fresh that it seems almost impossible that
he has been to so many places and has had such adventures.
I sympathise with poor Desdemona when she had such a
dangerous stream poured in her ear, even by a black man.
I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think
a man will save us from fears, and we marry him. I know
now what I would do if I were a man and wanted to make
a girl love me. No, I don't, for there was Mr. Morris
telling us his stories, and Arthur never told any, and
yet My dear, I am somewhat previous. Mr. Quincey
P. Morris found me alone. It seems that a man always
does find a girl alone. No, he doesn't, for Arthur tried
twice to make a chance, and I helping him all I could ; I am
not ashamed to say it now. I must tell you beforehand that
Mr. Morris doesn't always speak slang-that is to say, he
never does so to strangers or before them, for he is really
well educated and has exquisite manners-but he found
out that it amused me to hear him talk American slang, and
whenever I was present, and there was no one to be
shocked, he said such funny things. I am afraid, my dear,64 DRACULA
he has to invent it all, for it fits exactly into whatever else
he has to say. But this is a way slang has. I do not know
myself if I shall ever speak slang ; I do not know if Arthur
likes it, as I have never heard him use any as yet. Well,
Mr. Morris sat down beside me and looked as happy and
jolly as he could, but I could see all the same that he was
very nervous . He took my hand in his, and said ever so
sweetly : -
" Miss Lucy, I know I ain't good enough to regulate the
fixin's of your little shoes, but I guess if you wait till you
find a man that is you will go join them seven young
women with the lamps when you quit. Won't you just hitch
up alongside of me and let us go down the long road to-
gether, driving in double harness ? '
" Well, he did look so good - humoured and so jolly that
it didn't seem half so hard to refuse him as it did poor
Dr. Seward ; so I said, as lightly as I could, that I did not
know anything of hitching, and that I wasn't broken to
harness at all yet. Then he said that he had spoken in a
light manner, and he hoped that if he had made a mistake
in doing so on so grave, so momentous, an occasion for
him, I would forgive him. He really did look serious when
he was saying it , and I couldn't help feeling a bit serious
too -I know, Mina, you will think me a horrid flirt-
though I couldn't help feeling a sort of exultation that he
was number two in one day. And then, my dear, before
I could say a word he began pouring out a perfect torrent
of love-making, laying his very heart and soul at my feet.
He looked so earnest over it that I shall never again think
that a man must be playful always, and never earnest,
because he is merry at times. I suppose he saw something
in my face which checked him, for he suddenly stopped,
and said with a sort of manly fervour that I could have
loved him for if I had been free :-
" ' Lucy, you are an honest-hearted girl, I know. I should
not be here speaking to you as I am now if I did not be-
lieve you clean grit, right through to the very depths of
your soul. Tell me, like one good fellow to another, is there
any one else that you care for ? And if there is I'll neverLETTERS , ETC. 65
trouble you a hair's breadth again, but will be, if you will
let me, a very faithful friend. '
" My dear Mina, why are men so noble when we women
are so little worthy of them ? Here was I almost making
fun of this great-hearted, true gentlemen. I burst into tears
—I am afraid, my dear, you will think this a very sloppy
letter in more ways than one-and I really felt very badly.
Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as
want her, and save all this trouble ? But this is heresy, and
I must not say it. I am glad to say that, though I was cry-
ing, I was able to look into Mr. Morris's brave eyes, and
told him out straight : -
" Yes, there is some one I love, though he has not told
me yet that he even loves me.' I was right to speak to him
so frankly, for quite a light came into his face, and he put
out both his hands and took mine-I think I put them into
his-and said in a hearty way : -
"" That's my brave girl. It's better worth being late for a
chance of winning you than being in time for any other
girl in the world. Don't cry, my dear. If it's for me, I'm a
hard nut to crack ; and I take it standing up. If that other
fellow doesn't know his happiness, well, he'd better look
for it soon, or he'll have to deal with me. Little girl, your
honesty and pluck have made me a friend, and that's
rarer than a lover ; it's more unselfish anyhow. My dear,
I'm going to have a pretty lonely walk between this and
Kingdom Come. Won't you give me one kiss ? It'll be some-
thing to keep off the darkness now and then. You can, you
know, if you like, for that other good fellow-he must be
a good fellow, my dear, and a fine fellow, or you could not
love him-hasn't spoken yet. ' That quite won me, Mina,
for it was brave and sweet of him, and noble, too, to a rival
-wasn't it ?—and he so sad ; so I leant over and kissed
him. He stood up with my two hands in his, and as he
looked down into my face-I am afraid I was blushing
very much-he said : -
" Little girl, I hold your hand, and you've kissed me,
and if these things don't make us friends nothing ever will.
Thank you for your sweet honesty to me, and good- bye.'66 DRACULA
He wrung my hand, and taking up his hat, went straight
out of the room without looking back, without a tear or a
quiver or a pause ; and I am crying like a baby. Oh, why
must a man like that be made unhappy when there are lots
of girls about who would worship the very ground he trod
on? I know I would if I were free-only I don't want to
be free. My dear, this quite upset me, and I feel I cannot
write of happiness just at once, after telling you of it ; and
I don't wish to tell of the number three until it can be all
happy." " Ever your loving "LUCY,
"P.S.-Oh, about number Three-I needn't tell you of
number Three, need I ? Besides , it was all so confused ; it
seemed only a moment from his coming into the room till
both his arms were round me, and he was kissing me. I am
very, very happy, and I don't know what I have done to
deserve it. I must only try in the future to show that I am
not ungrateful to God for all His goodness to me in send-
ing to me such a lover, such a husband, and such a friend.
"Good-bye. "
Dr. Seward's Diary.
(Kept in phonograph)
25 May. -Ebb tide in appetite to-day. Cannot eat, cannot
rest, so diary instead. Since my rebuff of yesterday I have
a sort of empty feeling ; nothing in the world seems of suf-
ficient importance to be worth the doing. . . . As I knew
that the only cure for this sort of thing was work, I went
down amongst the patients. I picked out one who has af-
forded me a study of much interest . He is so quaint that
I am determined to understand him as well as I can. To-
day I seemed to get nearer than ever before to the heart of
his mystery.
I questioned him more fully than I had ever done, with
a view to making myself master of the facts of his hallu-
cination. In my manner of doing it there was, I now see,
something of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep him to theLETTERS , ETC. 67
point of his madness-a thing which I avoid with the pa-
tients as I would the mouth of hell.
(Mem., under what circumstances would I not avoid the
pit of hell ?) Omnia Roma venalia sunt. Hell has its price!
verb. sap. If there be anything behind this instinct it will be
valuable to trace it afterwards accurately, so I had better
commence to do so , therefore—
R. M. Renfield, ætat 59. -Sanguine temperament ; great
physical strength ; morbidly excitable ; periods of gloom,
ending in some fixed idea which I cannot make out. I pre-
sume that the sanguine temperament itself and the disturb-
ing influence end in a mentally-accomplished finish ; a pos-
sibly dangerous man, probably dangerous if unselfish. In
selfish men caution is as secure an armour for their foes
as for themselves . What I think of on this point is, when
self is the fixed point the centripetal force is balanced with
the centrifugal ; when duty, a cause, etc. , is the fixed point,
the latter force is paramount, and only accident or a series
of accidents can balance it.
Letter, Quincey P. Morris to Hon. Arthur Holmwood.
"25 May.
" My dear Art, -
" We've told yarns by the camp-fire in the prairies ; and
dressed one another's wounds after trying a landing at the
Marquesas ; and drunk healths on the shore of Titicaca.
There are more yarns to be told , and other wounds to be
healed, and another health to be drunk. Won't you let this
be at my camp-fire to-morrow night ? I have no hesitation
in asking you, as I know a certain lady is engaged to a cer-
tain dinner- party, and that you are free. There will only
be one other, our old pal at the Korea, Jack Seward. He's
coming, too, and we both want to mingle our weeps over
the wine-cup, and to drink a health with all our hearts to
the happiest man in all the wide world , who has won the
noblest heart that God has made and the best worth win-
ning. We promise you a hearty welcome, and a loving
greeting, and a health as true as your own right hand. We68 DRACULA
shall both swear to leave you at home if you drink too deep
to a certain pair of eyes. Come !
" Yours, as ever and always,
" QUINCEY P. MORRIS. "
Telegram from Arthur Holmwood to Quincey P. Morris.
"26 May.
"Count me in every time. I bear messages which will
make both your ears tingle.
"ART."