Cecily Moncrieff -6 July 1904

Algernon and I are finally married. That was the most beautiful wedding of all time. I was pleased to see love sparkling in his eyes and to hear my heart beating fast in response.

Ten years later, here we are, not as happy as we used to be before that day. That day happened not so long ago. When I learned that I was pregnant for the fourth time, in November, I was the happiest, woman on Earth. Four little children, plus my husband, seemed to me to be the perfect family. Unfortunately, I never thought that I could have two babies in my belly at the time. When I realized that I was giving birth to two little ones, I was overly revolted. What on Earth was happening? I didn't plan on it and I certainly didn't want it.

While I'm writing this letter, I know that my babies are crying and need desperately my attention. They could die if I don't pay more attention to them, but, honestly, I really don't care. Edward, eight years old, Ann, seven years old, and Mary, five years old, are coming to my door, demanding that I look more for the babies. I don't pay much attention. All that I want is for Algernon to look for me.

When I am not with my dear friend Gwendolen, I think about my loved one and my heart hurts. I don't know how to explain it clearly, but I'm sure that he doesn't want to be with other women than me and, if that happened, that it didn't happen because of him. He's only a weak man and it is my duty to change his weakness to make him feel more confident about himself and more confident about my love for him.

His brother, Ernest, and he are not at home most of the time. I don't know exactly what they are doing out during the day, but I don't really like or... I don't know. The only thing that I know for sure it's that I don't enjoy it: I miss my husband.

Like the popular adage says: "Tomorrow is a new day.'' Maybe I'll feel better... We'll see. I'll let you know if things get better...