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Posted on Thursday, 27 December 2001, at 4:02 p.m.

She said....

Dear Marianne,

I am writing on the ship after I saw Mama's, Margaret's and your sweet face fade into the crowd. I am lonely already and seasick already. I wish I were home. I know Marianne, darling, that you think nothing ever scares or affects me, but after goodbye I must admit I went to my cabin in this big boat filled with strangers, and lay me down to cry. Why would fathers dying wish be for me to travel to Europe alone?

Marianne, you are a woman of the world, and you should be the one to explore. I can just see you out on bow of the boat with some Irish artist who is teaching you to fly. I should be the one at home, baking cookies. I like baking cookies.

I haven't even touched my paints. I should be out on deck right now. But I really feel so sad and depressed. Give Willoughby my love and thank him for the roses. Did they come from Combe Magna Flower Company or just an obliging field?

Elinor Dashwood the seasick and homesick

He said....

Robert,

Got on the boat. Not bad. Like the cabin. Wrote to Lucie. She had a letter here waiting for me at the desk. She still says she loves me. I don't know, I don't feel that we have the same goals. I am not an outgoing man. I want a little parish somewhere where I can raise chickens. I like the buff orphington breed best.

Anyway, I hope that mother is happy and that my trip to Europe will make me more distingusished at something. I am not sure at what though. I wish you could be the disinguished one. Why do you have to be a writer? You take the Company, then I could run off and find myself a nice peaceful spot far away from Ferrars Chemistry Company.

Watch after Lucie while I am gone.

Edward Ferrars.

Posted on Friday, 28 December 2001, at 2:54 p.m.

She said..

Dear Marianne,

I know that Willoughby was photographing the house but why did he focus on you instead?

I am kidding. I love the photo, and I miss all of you terribly. You both are such darlings for sending it to me.

I did a sketch of Willoughby's flowers in colored pencil. I think the poppies turned out quite fetching.

I had dinner at a large banquet table, surrounded by strangers. They were not even kind enough to sit me where I could see the couples dancing. I found myself staring at a blank wall while I was eating.

There is was one bright spot in the evening though, Jenny Lind was on board and she was kind enough to sing a few songs for us. She sang Father's favorite song. I cried. Marianne, I wish you had been here, the music was glorious.

Tell Margaret that I am looking for any kind of treasure maps and navigational tools. Tell her also they will not let me steer the boat. It just isn't done.

Love and kisses

Elinor

He said

Robert,

What do you mean Lucy is staying with Fanny? How does she even know Fanny? Please, Please, Please, Make sure she doesn't breathe a word to anyone about the engagement.

The food is incredible here. I had to sit with a bunch of nitwit snobs but the lobster made up for it. I was sat at the end of the table where I could not see the dancing. I am just not sentimental. Besides it reminds me of Lucie.

Why did I propose to her? One minute we were laughing and joking and the next she was telling everyone about our engagement. I don't think I would have proposed at all, had she not cried and gone on about how she would miss me. Never could handle a beautiful woman crying.

There was one other woman sitting with her face to the wall like me, she was eating and saying as little as possible. That alone was fascinating. Lucie never stops talking. But this amazing creature seemed as other worldly and out of place as I myself feel.

Jenny Lind was on the boat. She gave an amazing performance. It was worth staying for. It made the quiet girl cry.

Tell Lucie that I miss her and think about her constantly. (Don't tell her about the things I said in this letter.)

Edward F.

Posted on Monday, 31 December 2001, at 3:52 p.m.

She said...

Darling Marianne,

Got out on deck and enjoyed the sun today. It is amazing how the seas change. It is like time, it never stands still, even when it is perfectly smooth as glass. The reflections and glimmers change moment by moment. I find it strangely comforting.

I went to my room and started a new oil painting. I didn't stop even to eat. You know what it is like when you are inspired. It is your only nourishment.

Now to answer your last epistle, Col. Brandon is not "Old or infirm". Nor did he have any malicious reason to end the charity picnic. I am sure that something terrible sent him away and he will reschedule at a later date. Now you and Wiloughby must stop making up stories about his "Mysterious Fatal Emergency."

Tell Mama I am eating fine. You know how she is about such things. I do not want her to worry on my account. I just got extremely carried away that once. Although, I feel this will be good for my artist eye.

I do now understand why Father sent me here. There is something deep and alive about travel. I feel my paintings are getting more and more alive with my every breath of sea air. I find myself sitting and imagining how I would paint certain objects. I am sending you a sketch I did of the deck. The forth from the right is my own deck chair. Yes, Marianne that is the travel rug you gave me. Yes, it has been mighty handy.

All My Love,

Elinor the inspired

He said...

Robert,

Got a telegram from Lucie today. How much time have you spent together? She seems to think you quite charming. Oh well, I guess it runs in the family. You took her to the Museum? Since when have you been interested in art? You know less about art than I do, and I know nothing.

Fanny has a Beau? Really! Miracles never cease. I never thought that she would settle down. She has worked in the company ever since I can remember. Maybe she will stop trying to run our lives, now that she has one of her own. ( I can say that to you and still not make anyone mad.)

As for the Quiet girl, I have not seen her in a few days. She must be smart enough to have her meals sent to her cabin.

I hope she has not gotten sick.

All I have seen is ocean for days. I will be glad to see land. I am getting cabin fever. I wish I had someone to talk to besides waiters and stewards. I am getting extremely lonely. Why else would I be writing you?

Edward

He said again...

Robert, I have found the Quiet girl. This morning she was out on deck. Guess what she was doing? Nope, Nope, you never were good at guessing games now were you? She is a painter. And a good one at that. She was out painting that endless skyline. I complimented her on her work. She smiled at me. What a smile... It makes me sigh just to think about it. There should be a law against how I feel right now.

Did I tell you that she is an angel. Maybe she is purer than an angel. I don't know.

I must learn to stay away from artists or Lucy will kill me.

Edward

She said...

Dear Marianne,

I know that you believe that I will be swept off my feet by some millionaire art connoisseur, would it be so terrible if I brought home man who thinks Raphael is French, and Rembrandt painted the Mona Lisa?

Yes, I will admit there is such a nitwit. I met him today when I was painting on deck. At first he seemed totally sane, charming even. First impressions are so deceiving.

Anyway the conversation was fine until he started likening my painting to the French painter Raphael. It went downhill from there. I do not think he has even a slight taste for art.

I still like him however. That is I esteem him highly. (Don't you, and Mama read more into this than I have already stated.)

He is quite amiable and unobtrusive. He gave every indication of an open and affectionate heart. He is gentleman like. When I sneezed he gave me his handkerchief. Very tasteful.

I am sending you a very brief sketch I did of his profile. I took it while he was daydreaming and watching the ocean. He doesn't even know I did it.

I probably will never see him again. More than likely, he is engaged or married. So Marianne, I beg you not to plan my wedding yet. I know you.

By the way he likes to read Cowper. But he reads it much differently than Wiloughby. I can just hear you now, "Not animated by Cowper! Mama, she had gone and found a spiritless, and tame mannered, simpleton." But I assure you Marianne, even you would love him.

But enough about E.F. ( for that is the only name I know. It was on the handkerchief.)

I have gotten 2 oil paintings done. One is for a miniature for Marianne. It is Norland in fall. It is not everyone, Marianne, who has your passion for dead leaves.

Love as always,

Elinor Posted on Sunday, 6 January 2002, at 8:58 a.m.

He said...

Robert, I have been a good boy. The artist and I have talked at the dinner table every night, but other than that, there has been nothing that you could -even remotely- deem as romantic, unless you count the night we danced.

I am not a reserved man. I am shy, and afraid of hurting or antagonizing people. I do not pretend affection, nor do I act more than I feel. So when I say that Elinor, (for that is the only name I know and I learned that from her table place card) is the most enchanting, gracious, and sincere woman I have ever met, you, dear brother, know that she must be even more so, than I have said.

But as for the dance, it was to rescue her from a fate worse than death. There is a real Casanova on board.

No, I don't refer to myself.

This oily play boy asked her to dance, so of course I said I had asked her first. He did not hassle us-I mean her again. As a reward I got to see what a charming dance partner she was. It was one of those moments when you feel like all is impeccable. The candles, the moonlight, the ship, nothing could have enhanced it more.

I am now forcing myself to stay away from Elinor, save during meals. She is a pleasure to eat with. I find myself hoping someone will invent a few new opportunities at which I could break bread with her.

By the way, this Dashwood fellow that Fanny is engaged to, what sort of a man is he?

Edward

P.S. Notify Lucie that I miss her. Well I do, kind of... I mean... I really do miss her on occasion.

On second thought, don't tell her anything. That way she won't imagine that you are lying.

She said...

Oh Marianne,

I could have danced all night, and still have begged for more. You are probably telling Mama that I am delirious with yellow fever right at this moment. I am not. I am sanely standing on both feet and swooning with delight.

E.F. asked me to dance. (Well sort of...)

There is this Lothario on board who seems to scheme about dancing with every eligible woman in the room. One per night, and I think he is doing it in reverse alphabetical order. ( I am teasing, Marianne.)

But I am not kidding when I say that Lothario did ask me to dance and he almost forced me into a fox trot. Had sweet E.F. not been there and said that he asked me first... Well, I think I would not be so rapturous.

As for the dance itself, well all I can say is that it was one of the most delightful things I have ever done. You have no idea how breathtaking it is to dance by moonlight, over the ocean. It felt glorious, dazzling, heavenly.

But, I must now come back to earth and begin painting again.

I do however believe, that interlude was the most perfect event, I have ever experienced. I will treasure it in my heart, for years to come. It was a moment of a lifetime.

I don't know if E.F. felt the same way or not. Ever since then he has been... Reserved. I think he feels he has moved too fast. Indeed, maybe he has. I do not know. How I wish I knew what to say and do in such a situation. It is not like common courtesy can apply to such instances. I know Marianne, that you would just send him a long and arduous letter. But somehow ,I feel the less said to him about the subject, the better. I do not want to estrange him from my company all together.

Gentlemen make no sense,

the mystified Elinor Dashwood

Ps. Congratulate James for me. I am sorry Marianne, that you dislike his fiancee already. It is a pity, that she should have lost a good friend so fast.

She said...

Dear Marianne,

They sounded the bell and said "Land ho!" Mrs. Wilson (who is my cabin mate) and I scrambled to the porthole. Oh Marianne the colours were so bright. It looked like a little toy town. It was an island, one of the Azores, by the name of St. Michael.

There are nine of these little islands. They seem so small like and rather rude to push themselves so far into the Atlantic. They rather remind me of Mrs. Jennings.

Yes, I did get off and see the sights. Oh Marianne, the flowers! They were everywhere. And the pineapples, that is their main export. I bought you crucifix from a little Jesuit church. It was so beautiful I just had to bring a bit of it home.

Everyone says that if I loved this place I will love Madeira even more. I have been asked to stay with Mrs. Wilson in Madeira and leave the cruise and E.F. behind.

I am not sure what to do. On one hand I really have enjoyed Mrs. Wilson's company and should like to stay on an Island. On the other hand if I stay on the cruise there will be a captain's ball, and another chance that E.F. might ask me to dance.

If only you were here to advise me.

Elinor

He said...

Robert,

She may be getting off the ship at the next stop! What am I to do?

I wish I had never met her. I wish I had never met Lucie. I wish I knew whom I really loved.

I wonder how you would handle such a moral dilemma. Here you are worried about the choices you have made for the future, doubting whether or not there is really such a thing as falling in love. I don't want to be in charge of Ferrars Chem. I don't want to be the best man at Fanny's wedding. I really don't think I want to marry Lucie anymore.

I have always been the dutiful and loving son. I have tried to take Father's place as well as a could. My only regret is My carrying on with Lucie. But then again all that we really have ever done is exchange letters. I haven't ever even held her hand. I did not even kiss her after I asked her to marry me. She was crying, and I simply hugged her.

What do I want?

I want my own private island. As far away from chemicals as I can get. And If a certain artist should happen to consent to be my bride and the Queen of Edward's Isle then so be it.

I want to raise chickens also. Elinor likes chickens too, Lucie never has. I think I would also like some rabbits. And I will raise pineapples and sugar cane.

Is it snowing at home? I was thinking as Elinor and I were walking through St. Michael that if I were home I would probably be shoveling the walk right now. Is that what you and Lucie are doing? Please name the snowman after yours truly.

Edward

Posted on Sunday, 13 January 2002, at 4:26 p.m.

She said...

Marianne,

Are you alright? I received a telegram from mother that you and Wiloughby had quarreled, and he had left unexpectedly. I know that he will return. He cannot stay away from his betrothed long. He did ask you to marry him did he not? Mother said that he did.

I know that you are probably mourning the loss of his company. How I wish I were there to take care of you.

Don't go running in the rain and twisting your ankle again. Alright?

Tell Margaret that I said she should watch after you. Yes I think a trip to London would do you both a world of good. Even if it is with Mrs. Jennings. I hope you see and do everything that is a delight. It will take your mind off the big W. ( No, I am not going to say his name and remind you again.)

As for me, I did stay on the cruise. If I had stayed at Madeira I would have gotten home much later. And I miss my sister too much.

Hang in there, I will only be gone a couple of weeks more.

Elinor

He said..

Robert,

Is it too much to believe in true love and the miraculous? Alright, I admit it is. However, things have been going my way. I wouldn't be surprised if I fell off the boat after this. Life has been too kind. It makes me suspicious.

Not only did Elinor stay, but she is confiding in me. I noticed that she looked worried, so asked her if she was enjoying the view.

The amazing thing is she knew what I meant. That is what so intrigues me about her. It is as if she has known me all her life. I think she can read me like an open book and yet, She refuses to use such a power against me. She is a very wise and trustworthy woman.

Her sister is upset. Her sister had a Beau that she quarreled with and now he has left her. But hopefully not for good.

Rather strange that Fanny's beloved has a sister with similar troubles. Love and quarrels are universal...

Speaking of quarrels, how is Lucy? Yes I got your letter about throwing Lucy away. No, I am not throwing her away, I know I must remain honorable. I will marry Lucie, But I think I love Elinor. Don't worry I am used to such contradictions. And soon my heart will match my head I promise.

Tell Lucie I love her, and this time I mean it. - with my head anyway.

Edward

Posted on Thursday, 17 January 2002, at 6:53 p.m.

Marianne,

I have a new cabin mate. She was homesick so a steward asked me if I would share. Her name is Betsy. She is a sweet young American. Marianne, you would love her. She has a crush on one of the workers here and he has made friends with E.F. (Whose first name I now know. E=Edward, F=?)

Anyway I really like Betsy except...

Her first night in the cabin with me, there was a terrible storm. Betsy who likes to smell the salt air before going to sleep left the porthole open. I woke up to her screams. And there we were Marianne, up to our knees in water.

Of course, Betsy's pet steward came running. The shocking part was Edward came running also.

Imagine us, Marianne, two young and vivacious women wearing flannel robes and curlers in our hair. Edward could barely keep a straight face. I was more than embarrassed, I was livid. Neither Edward nor I were properly dressed but at least his robe was not shabby like mine. I should have listened to you and bought one of those slinky pink things.

Why? Oh why, was I practical enough to fear pneumonia?

How is London? I heard from Margaret that you met Fanny's younger brother, and he was not much of a looker. Betsy taught me a new phrase to express disappointment and I believe it is applicable in your situation. If you are disappointed with life just say

"What a dirty gyp."

Isn't that just too quaint? Americans are all barking mad.

I am glad to know that the good Col. Is with you. Somehow he makes me feel less worried. I know Marianne you do not like to discuss him but someday you must face the fact that he is not as bad as you think. I am sure he went along only to be in your company. Perhaps you should at least befriend him? No, I don't think he is truly prejudiced against Willoughby. There are some people who do not get along no matter what.

It is rather like, you and James' fiancée.

I hope you do happen to run into willow bee ( still don't want to remind you, even if your letters are full of him). I am sure he is busy and just simply cannot speak to anyone. You know how he is when he gets his mind set on something.

Don't worry love, he will come;

Elinor

He Said,

Robert,

I have been reading the business reports on Combe Magna Flower Co.

I fear it is much worse than we thought. They have extended themselves far beyond an entrepreneur should. They should not have formed a corporation. Now it seems, that this, John Willoughby- fellow is in way over his head. It was rather prudent of him to seek, and propose to the lovely young heiress. I wish I had such heartless business sense.

As for our company, you need not worry. I would never gamble on our future like that, we have too many lives dependant on us.

And now to more pleasant business,

I was awakened in the night, By screams of terror, issuing from Elinor's cabin. I did not think. I just ran... straight into My friend O'Fallan, the Deck Steward. He is rather fond of Elinor's American room mate.

I think the roommate is rather loopy. To each to his own I suppose.

But that is not the point, you see the girls had left the port hole open and during the night a storm blew up.

O'Fallan and I opened the door and water began spilling out like a mighty river. And there was Elinor standing in a soaking wet flannel night coat. I never knew how cute flannel could be. She had her hair up in curlers and was blushing a deep crimson. Even her ears turned red. I was trying hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, when I realized I was not really that properly dressed either.

Perhaps, brother dear, She was embarrassed that she saw me in my robe? I have never really thought it indecent, but then again I did not plan to go cavorting around in it either.

Don't mention the robe thing to Lucie. She is already jealous enough.

When did you and she go to the Opera? She mentioned it in her last letter. I would have liked to take her. (I should like to take Elinor even more.) Did Lucie cry when Mdm. Butterfly died? I always choke back a tear on that one.

Kind of strange, But I now know how Lt. Pinkerton felt. Being torn between two women like that. I used to hate him you know. Now I feel Ol' Pinkerton and I have more in common than we should.

Why can't I have something in common with Gilbert and Sullivan?

Edward- who still feels like a real heel.

Posted on Thursday, 24 January 2002, at 1:41 p.m.

She Said...

Dear Marianne,

What do you mean by sending me a telegram that simply says...

Elinor (stop) where is your heart (stop)

What in the wide world do you mean? The fact that I have not secured his affection, (or his last name for that matter.) should prove that I do not really love him. As I have said before and I repeat again.... I ESTEEM HIM HIGHLY! That is all!

Of course if I ever do fall in love, I hope it will be with a man that is as sweet and kind as Edward. I hope that he would have blue-eyes like Edward. And that sweet little way he gets embarrassed. I hope I will fall in love with a man that is shy like Edward. And perhaps if I am a really good girl, maybe he will have the same tone of voice as

Edward.

But I do NOT love Edward F. and I really, really REALLY, mean it.

Perhaps I should send you a telegram back saying;

Marianne (stop) Where is your conscience (stop)

She said again... a little later...

Oh Darling,

I am so sorry. I have forgotten the agony you must be suffering. I just read Mother's letter, and I would like to hit Willoughby with a cricket bat! I would never wish this on you Marianne. Not in a million years. I know that you loved him. And I do feel that he loved you, he just loved the Combe Magna Co. more.

I really don't know what to say.

Just know that I love you, and that I will be home as soon as I can get on the boat to England.

He said...

Dear Lucy,

I have been considering our situation, and I find that we just don't have that much in common anymore...

That's not right!

Dear Lucy,

Traveling has really opened my eyes, and I feel that we need some time apart so we can discover who we really are individually. I feel that I am evolving into something much stronger and softer than the Edward I was before.

I am not sure that there is a best way to do this...But I would like to call our engagement off. I feel that I need to move in a different direction than I was before...

He said... 30 minutes later... after a rather abrupt telegram.

Robert!

What has happened? Did Lucy tell Fanny that we were engaged? Mother sent me a telegram saying that all my funds were cut off, and that I should return to England as soon as possible. That she must discuss with me, my upcoming marriage. What marriage? I was just penning a letter to Lucy saying that I wanted to call it all off.

Why me?

Why now?

Robert, I am desperate to marry Elinor. She really is the love of my life and if I miss the opportunity to at least find out her last name, then I will loose my chance.

Please, Please, Please, Help me! Try to do anything to help me, I am grateful that I have a brother that I can trust like you.

Not everyone can boast that their brother is their best friend.

I will be in England in a few days. Try to keep everything from exploding in my face until then.

Edward the refugee

Posted on Tuesday, 5 February 2002, at 9:08 a.m.

He said...

Robert,

I should be mad at you, but everything has gone so wrong that I just don't care. It is amazing how feeling numb can be so protective. I guess those God-given instincts are a good thing.

I have lost her Robert. I have lost Elinor. I feel I will never see or hear from her again.

It was all because of that stupid telegram Lucie sent.

Oh by the way Congratulations on your engagement to Lucie. I know you will make her happy. Much happier than I could ever make her.

Anyway, Elinor and I attended the Captain's Ball together. We danced most all the dances together. I was about to ask her where I could find her after she left the cruise. (She has a sister that is ill and she is heading back to England as fast as she can go.)

But just as I was going to suavely ask for her address, One of the idiot bell boys brought me a telegram and said in his clearest and most distinctive voice " Telegram from your fiancee Edward, it is marked urgent."

Elinor's eyes widened. What could I say... I tried to explain but it just sounded like hollow noise. I broke her heart Robert. And when I broke her heart, I broke my own.

I have to go on and live my life. I cannot shut myself away like that lady in "Great Expectations". But I do feel that I have lost something that can never be gained back. That alone leaves me numb. I don't think I want to feel anymore.

Edward

She said...

Marianne,

I have left specific orders for you not to read this letter until you are well.

But, I must tell someone Darling.

I have been a foolish woman, I have loved a man who is engaged to another. On top of that, when I found out I just stood there staring at him while he tried to explain. Like he needed to. I have been a home wrecker and a fiancee stealer! Even worse still is that,

I think I really did love him.

Everything will be alright. I will come home to you and Mama and Margaret. My life will go on, my heart will go on. I now know I am wiser about men. Next time I fall in love I will hire a private detective to check him out.

Elinor

THREE WEEKS LATER...

She said...

Marianne,

How lucky of you to still not be well enough to be in the wedding. I am sure you and the Col. are sitting around poring over poetry. I don't blame you love, I really do wish you a speedy recovery.

I guess I am just unhappy with having to wear a gaudy bridesmaid dress designed by Fanny herself. I think she secretly picked out one that will make me look and feel terrible. I guess she did not want my beauty to rival the bride. ( I hope that made you laugh Darling. I so miss your laugh.)

I am to meet Robert's brother at the wedding. As I am the Maid of Honor, Edward, (Yes there is another Edward F.) Is John's best man.

I must go to the rehearsal now, I will continue this letter after.

He said...

Robert,

I can scarcely write for shock. James' sister is MY ELINOR!

She walked into the enormous and garish Chapel that Fanny had picked and I went into aesthetic arrest. She was like a lily amoung geraniums. She was even more graceful and tranquil than I remembered. There is something in the way she moves that attracts me like than no other woman.

She didn't see me for a while. I tried to hide as long as I could . I wanted to just watch her. I wanted to hear her voice again. I was too afraid to speak to her.

And them Fanny began yelling for me. I struggled with hatred for my sister at that moment.

As soon as Elinor made eye contact with me, I knew, I was worse than dirt, worse than scum... she ran out of the room and I followed...

She said...

Dear Marianne,

This is Margaret, who is writing for Elinor. Elinor is crying hysterically and cannot hold a pen. She says...

Fanny's brother is the same Edward. She does not know how to deal with the situation. What should she say? She told him that she hoped he was happy with his new bride and he said that Robert was the one who got married . At this point Elinor burst into tears and ran out of the room. Edward was fast on her heels.

He finally caught her and then he proposed.

-I saw him and he got on one knee, in front of everyone. Back to Elinor-

She just stood there and cried. And she has not stopped since. She doesn't know how she will make it through the wedding tomorrow. She wishes you were here so she could get some advice.

-I really like Edward. I was going to let him be my servant on an excursion to Africa. I really don't know what to do in this situation. Nobody ever talks to me about such things. However I think I might like to come stay with you and the Col. That way if Edward is killed or mortally wounded, I will not get the blame.

Margaret.

AND YET A FEW MORE MONTHS LATER...

The Families of Dashwood, Ferrars, and Brandon would like to invite you to the double wedding of

Elinor Elisabeth Dashwood and Edward Douglas Ferrars

Col. John Walter Brandon and Marianne Christine Dashwood

Refreshments will be provided at the reception following the Ceremony.

THE DAY OF THE WEDDING...

Dear Marianne,

I am staring at myself in the mirror and thinking, "I, Elinor, am a bride".

I was not one of those women who have planned every inch of my wedding way before I met and fell in love. And now I wish I had, so then I would know how foolish I was.

Now all I can think is why couldn't I have dreamed more? Why did I feel I would never be loved?

Falling in love is so simple. Staying in love is hard. All I can say is that both Edward and I will try hard to make this marriage work.

Now as for you Darling, I don't think you will have to worry about keeping love alive. John will do anything and everything for you. He has proved this over and over again. Don't take advantage of his devotion Darling. He loves you deeply. Don't make him prove it even more.

I am so glad that I have my sister and that we will share one of the most important days of our lives together. I love you now and forever.

Elinor

He said...

Dear Elinor,

I know you don't want me to see you before the wedding, but I have to tell my best friend how excited , nervous and over-joyed I feel.

No one could imagine how forgiving you are to me. You really are purer than an angel. And here I am waiting for the words "I do" so that I can finally kiss you without any remorse.

You have so many traits that I admire and love. Your kindness, your tolerance, your sweetness, and most of all your sense of humor. I love you darling, and I know that my love will not change.

Edward.