Chipping Norton
June 1st 1877
My Dearest Eugénie,
I think you will look for a letter on Sunday and so I cannot do better this rough windy evening than write to you ready for to-morrow morning’s post.
Thank you so much for your welcome letter received yesterday afternoon about half past two, and which made me feel very happy as usual, it was kind of you, dear Eugénie, to enclose a little flower, which I pressed to my lips as I thought of the dear girl who sent it, I remember the pansy used to be my favourite flower when a child and now it will have a fresh association.
I am sure you were very grieved to part with May, it is the penalty of affectionate natures to feel saying good-bye, but the fond heart must be wrung sometimes and it is better far to feel the pain, even frequently, than never to know the power of true friendship, “Farewell! a word that hath been, and must be – A sound which makes us linger”.
So Byron sings, and very truly; I am glad you went to see Mrs Parmby, it was nice of you, after her daughter had left, and I always believe a woman finds some considerable solace in the luxury of “a good cry”.
When your letter arrived yesterday, May 31st I was thinking of all that had just passed, two months before on that ever memorable 31st March and the sweet memory of that day, darling, when you accepted my love and oh! better still, gave me back your own, filled me with all calm and cheerful thoughts.
I have just been reading a new novel which I bought the other day for the sake of the title “Eugénie” by the author of “Miss Molly”, it is a nicely written story in one volume but too sad, especially the ending, one’s love is certainly none the worse, and perhaps frequently the better, for being subjected to what may seem a useless and unmerciful sorrow, but these things, in a book at least, should all be made to come right in the end, as, after all, I believe they generally do in real life: I often think, darling, how in the years to come we may truly be able to link our hands together, gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes, and feel that the love which binds our kindred spirits is all the stronger in that we have once, severally, experienced a bitter sense of heartbreaking desolation, ere yet we met, which like a dark cloud passing away has served but to let in upon our lives the full light of a brighter and a better day! when I come over I must bring this book, although the heroine is not my Eugénie.
I find my thoughts have been running on from one thing to another so that my letter will probably appear somewhat rambling, but I know it will appear before a partial reader!
This time three weeks I hope, if all is well, to be midway between London and Dover on my road to you, I do not speak of taking a trip to Paris this time, you see I have pretty well sketched out my journey and I think I have really performed it several times in fancy!
I am glad you have heard from Charlotte, so she said I looked happy, well I am sure my looks were but an index to my thoughts, your gentle love, darling, so full, I know, of trust and hope, is indeed all sufficient to make me supremely happy, and, whatever may at times disturb my outer life, nothing can ever seriously mar life’s harmony so long as my own Eugénie’s heart returns me that affection which I believe oh! so firmly it ever will do.
Good night, my darling, may the next three weeks speed pleasantly and quickly away for I do not seem as if I could bear to stop away much longer.
With fondest love
Ever believe me
Yours most affectionately
Julius Sladden
The lilies of the valley will not travel well but tell me if they retain their scent.
