Evangeline O’Hara Nelson
My
dear child,
Your life with Sheamus can’t be all that
bad. I know I see him through a mother’s eyes, but filing for divorce is out of
the quesiton. Have you no shame even thinking such a thing?
I would think a descendant of a
Revolutionary hero would have set herself higher standards, even if your
forebear simply ran out to join the battle of Bunker’s Hill.
You must remember that you owe your current
station in life to your marriage. To our social status and to
his wealth. Money, most of it, that he, God bless
him, earned from his own initiative, sweat and tears in the treacherous
I know a mother’s love is blind, and it’s
difficlut for me not to see the youngster Sheamus in my heart. The one with touseled hair, frecles, and a mischievious grin,
sneaking into the pantry to swipe freshly baked cookies or to slide down the
bannister or terrorize the servants.
I know the adult has a reputation with
the ladies, but dear, please, it’s a phase many husbands go through, even my
own. Yes, he dallied too, but he always returned to me, and in time, forgot all
about his mistresses.
You call me a prude. I think you can see
now that I am nothing of the kind. I’ve endured humiliation same as you. I’m
simply asking you not to rush into anything so drastic. It would ruin you. And
all sorts of things would be brought to light best left in the dark. And while
we all believed you rightly wore white at your wedding, you did almost run away
with that scaleywag, what was his name, Lt. Crayne? Or was there more to the
relationship? A divorce suit will make everyone wonder about your own
indiescretions. Either way, you wouldn’t be recieved by anyone of note. And the
children, poor babes, completely innocent, would be shunned and their futures
destroyed. And we ourselves would be unable to recieve them as well. One must
keep up appearances, even if it would break my heart.
I implore you, I beg you. Make no demands
on Sheamus for a divorce. The family can set you up someplace of your own if
you can’t bear to live in the same house with him for the few months of the year
when he’s not at sea.
I am sending you an
firescreen I stitched long long ago. Before Sheamus was even a year old. It was
made with hopes of happiness and a long life for him.
I hope as you look at it, you’ll remember
the good things about him, when you still loved him like a knight in shining
armour. That’s what you always said he was, remember my dear? I can’t believe
you’ve come to hate him this much, unless there’s something you’re not telling
me.
I am, as always, your devoted mother in
law,
Evangeline