How your letter amused me, and how delighted I am to hear your
interesting intelligence. You could not have given me better news. In
future I am relieved of all need of sympathetic anxiety about you, and
henceforth I can enjoy my freedom without a qualm, and dispose of life
just as I please.
Every good wish, dear friend! We must hope that this young person will
make you very happy; but, you know, young girls have their whims and
fancies. Fortunately, you are not only a good-looking man in the prime
of life, but also an uncommonly good match for any woman. The young
girls of the present day are seldom blind to such advantages, and you
will find her devotion very lasting, I have no doubt.
Who can she be? I have not the least idea. But I admire your
discretion--you have not changed in that respect. In any case, be
prepared, Richard, she will turn the house upside down and your work
will be cut out for you to get it straight again.
I am sure she bikes; she will probably drop her cigarette ashes into
your best Venetian glasses; she is certain to hate goloshes and long
skirts, and will enjoy rearranging the furniture. Well, she will be able
to have fine times in your spacious, well-ordered establishment!
I hope at any rate that you will be able to keep her so far within
bounds that she will not venture to chaff you about "number one." Do not
let her think that my taste predominates in the style and decorations of
the house....
Dear friend, already I see you pushing the perambulator! Do you remember
the ludicrous incident connected with the fat merchant Bang, who married
late in life and was always called "gran'pa" by his youthful progeny? Of
course, that will not happen in your case--you are a year or two younger
than Bang, so your future family will more probably treat you like a
playfellow.
You see, I am quite carried away by my surprise and delight.
If it were the proper thing, I should immensely like to be at the
wedding; but I know you would not allow such a breach of all the
conventions.
Where are you going for the honeymoon? You might bring her to see me
here occasionally, in the depths of the country, so long as nobody knew.
One of my first thoughts was: how does she dress? Does she know how to
do her hair? Because, you know, most of the girls in our particular set
have the most weird notions as regards hair-dressing and frocks.
However, I can rely on the sureness of your taste, and if your wedding
trip takes you to Paris, she will see excellent models to copy.
Now I understand why your letters got fewer and farther between. How
long has the affair been on hand? Did it begin early in the summer? Or
did you start it in the train between Hoerlsholm and Helsingoer, on your
way to and from the factory? I only ask--you need not really trouble to
answer.
I can see from your letter that you felt some embarrassment, and
blushed when you wrote it. Every word reveals your state of mind; as
though you were obliged to give some account of yourself to me, or were
afraid I should take your news amiss. I have already drunk to your
happiness all by myself in a glass of champagne.
You can tell your young lady, if you like.
Under the circumstances you had better not accept the invitation I gave
you in my last letter; although I would give much to see your good, kind
face, rejuvenated, as it doubtless is, by this new happiness. But it
would not be wise. You know it is harder to catch and to keep a young
girl than a whole sackful of those lively, hopping little creatures
which are my horror.
Besides, a new idea has occurred to me, and I can hardly find patience
to wait for its realisation.
Guess, Richard!... I intend to take a trip round the world. I have
already written to Cook's offices, and am eagerly awaiting information
as to tickets, fares, etc. I shall not go alone. I have not courage
enough for that. I will take Jeanne with me. If I cannot manage it out
of my income, I shall break into my capital, even if I have to live on a
pittance hereafter.
No--do not make any more of your generous offers of help. You must not
give any more money now to "women." Remember that, Richard!
The White Villa will be shut up during my absence; it cannot take to
itself wings, nor eat its head off during my absence. Probably in future
I shall spend my time between this place and various big towns abroad,
so that I shall only be here in summer.
At the same time as this letter, I am sending a wedding present for your
new bride. Girls are always crazy about jewellery. I have no further use
for a diadem of brilliants; but you need not tell her where it comes
from. You will recognise it. It was your first overwhelming gift, and on
our wedding day I was so taken up with my new splendour that I never
heard a word of the pastor's sermon. They said it was most eloquent.
I hope you will have the tact to remove the too numerous portraits of
myself which adorn your walls. Sell them for the benefit of struggling
artists; in that way, they will serve some good purpose, and I shall not
run the risk of being disfigured by my successor.
If I should come across any pretty china, or fine embroidery, in Japan,
I shall not forget your passion for collecting.
Let me know the actual date of the wedding, you can always communicate
through my banker. But the announcement will suffice. Do not write.
Henceforth you must devote yourself entirely to your role of young
husband.
You quite forgot to answer my questions about Lillie, and I conclude
from your silence that all is well with her.
Give her my love, and accept my affectionate greetings.