How could I not take the obvious screaming lead to explore this character through her diaries? The prized possession never leaves her side, (or at least a small notebook version, from which she will later translate and flesh out fully, given the time.) So onto my first building of a little backstory, as I dive into Gwendolen.
…Followed by our first read at noonish.
And, I’m off!
***
“The Sumptuous Divesting of a Woman, Au Courant”
Volume IV
***
Dearest Diary,
A new book.
“His Nibs” had you fashioned, bound especially, and sent directly whilst on tour in Paris mid-Holiday.
…I do think it mean of him to “off” with the ink of his final exams still yet damp, to other people and other places, in lieu of returning home again, as he should. Papa intimated it is just so, for young men to tour the continent whilst mid term, (“seeing a mite of the world, what?”), though Mamma quite overturned him…siding with me upon receipt of the news, and was entirely off her tea when Gerald’s letter first arrived.
…Now, he is off again. Italy to follow, we are told (with the note tucked into our gift boxes, just arrived today.) Papa: a new cigar case…though he never smokes, despite Mamma’s attempts to encourage him, (“A man should always have an occupation of some kind.”) Mamma: a very smart broach in gold setting, (“I have the simplest taste. I am always satisfied with the best.”); and for “Dolly”: a new diary, fashioned precisely to my specification of all previous volumes. The dear remembered every detail, which makes me homesick for him all the more.
In the end, he presumes a present of you will ease my displeasure of missing him…and although I must admit, his taste is very fine in choice of paper weight, and cover, and detail, (down to the small affixed lock with corresponding key, tied just so, in scarlet ribbon), it is in no sufficient manner of replacement for ones own dear brother.
…He has been ages at Oxford, and when next I will see him, heaven only knows.
Since my having returned home from abroad, quite “finished,” and mid-season, Mamma has become tiresome with my refusals to pay compliment toward any of the bores at court, which I am forever being forced to endure. Mamma says I should be well content with a good title, firmly set, a country seat or foreign villa for Holiday and an amusing address in Towne, but I am not. I cannot be, and will not! Which has brought upon frightful disagreements, filling quite a quarter of my last volume, with raging and tears.
I do miss Gerald.
I don’t care if it is childish to say it.
…He and I were always such devoted allies, against “The Honorables” (as we used to call them.) Just we two against the world, it now seems. “Nibs & Dolly.” (He: for seducing all to his will, without question. Me: for his mistaking me upon first sight, in infancy, as his plaything.)
I feel, suddenly, fairly blue.
Extraordinary, how one can feel vastly more onliest at home than even the furthest distance abroad at Academy. When home…with the one you love most of all still far from reach… every nook and cranny and memory, of all your old haunts and delights, are ten times the more miserable-making.
I suspect Mamma has deduced the cause of my recurrent melancholy, at last.
…She has requested cousin Algy to stay for a fortnight. Algy, “Nibs” and I were very much “the clutch” once…in our youth…quite, quite long ago.
Amusing to look back on now: being fully twenty-three, and a great deal more experienced.
…They were fine times we had, once. A great many laughs.
Dearest Algy.
…Not “His Nibs,” but a jolly good friend, none-the-less.
He's to ride up, come Saturday. (Providing his invalid-friend Mister Bunbury, has not fallen ill again)…arriving directly from a stay with a new acquaintance, he has often of late been speaking of.
…A Mister Earnest Worthing.
Mamma consulted the Burke’s, but he’s naught to be found. Which causes Mamma now quite to doubt his suitability of “making free” with Algernon’s time.
…And yet, whether of “Peerage” title or no, I must admit…his name did ignite a flame of interest.
…Such a capable name.
I shall inquire Algy on more particulars of him.
…En cachette, of course.
How very fortunate, that he should meet a man…and that I should come to know of him… and that he should not be in the book of Peerage…yet I cannot seem to arrest the sudden fascination, to know more of his nature.
….Particularly as you well know, dear diary, that my ideal has always been to love someone of the name of “Earnest.”
~ H.G.F.
***
~D
