Eveline's Letter to Her Father
Dear Father,
It is not without some great deal of thought and a heavy burden on my heart that I write this letter to you. I doubt you will be surprised, perhaps even a little depressed to learn that I have left with no intention of returning. Save your thoughts and feelings for yourself and Harry and know that I will be well cared for by Frank. I know you do not approve of him and his wandering ways because he is a sailor that he can offer the world outside of our little community which I look forward to experiencing.
When Mother was ill, I made her a promise of which I meant to keep at all cost, and that was to watch over you and Harry, along with the house as long as I possibly could. It is because of this vow that I remained as long as I have while sacrificing my own dreams to live out a life by far too closely to that of dear Mother’s own. There was a duty to perform a sacrifice and this I did without complaint. Please understand that I am not running out on my duty as vowed to Mother, but simply going about it in a different manner for a greater happiness. I firmly believe exists with Frank by my side.
He has asked me to go away with him to Buenos Ayres where we will build our own home together as husband and wife. Your home is here, I have to make my home with Frank. I shall go where the night-boats swells upon the waves and deposits us at the very end of our journey.
Father, you have provided food and shelter for me all my life and I believe you did what you thought best in the raising up of Harry, Ernest and I. I do not hold a grudge towards you for the selfishness brought about by age and sorrow. It burdens me much like a rope tied to my neck. Episodes of increasing violence I have witnessed are becoming stones weighting down your once kind spirit and I fear if I stay here it would do neither of us any good in the end. Working at the Stores brings me no pleasure either; it fairly tramples on my romantic nature to be in the presence of the
It is not without some great deal of thought and a heavy burden on my heart that I write this letter to you. I doubt you will be surprised, perhaps even a little depressed to learn that I have left with no intention of returning. Save your thoughts and feelings for yourself and Harry and know that I will be well cared for by Frank. I know you do not approve of him and his wandering ways because he is a sailor that he can offer the world outside of our little community which I look forward to experiencing.
When Mother was ill, I made her a promise of which I meant to keep at all cost, and that was to watch over you and Harry, along with the house as long as I possibly could. It is because of this vow that I remained as long as I have while sacrificing my own dreams to live out a life by far too closely to that of dear Mother’s own. There was a duty to perform a sacrifice and this I did without complaint. Please understand that I am not running out on my duty as vowed to Mother, but simply going about it in a different manner for a greater happiness. I firmly believe exists with Frank by my side.
He has asked me to go away with him to Buenos Ayres where we will build our own home together as husband and wife. Your home is here, I have to make my home with Frank. I shall go where the night-boats swells upon the waves and deposits us at the very end of our journey.
Father, you have provided food and shelter for me all my life and I believe you did what you thought best in the raising up of Harry, Ernest and I. I do not hold a grudge towards you for the selfishness brought about by age and sorrow. It burdens me much like a rope tied to my neck. Episodes of increasing violence I have witnessed are becoming stones weighting down your once kind spirit and I fear if I stay here it would do neither of us any good in the end. Working at the Stores brings me no pleasure either; it fairly tramples on my romantic nature to be in the presence of the