
Monday, 19 July, 1870
(early morning)
Once again I am unable to sleep.
My stomach hurts most wretchedly, no doubt all the foreign food I have no choice but to eat. The sounds of this place are all so unfamiliar, and the voices of the resident servants disturb me. I daren't use my ear-covers, since we could suffer enemy incursion at any time.
I am in great turmoil. I tried to go to sleep earlier. I heard Emily crying, and felt compelled to seek her out, since I suspected she was upset largely due to my actions toward her this evening. She was hiding in a closet. I hope I have soothed her somewhat, but I still chastise myself for my hard thoughts toward her.
Once that episode concluded, I have come back to my room only to be disturbed by my own thoughts about my dream of last night and my conversation with Mr Frazer earlier this evening.
Last time I was thus disturbed, I found it helpful to pour out my anxieties in this volume. I can only hope it will help now, as I cannot afford to be groggy or irritable in the morning.
At least I know with some assurance that Mr Frazer regards me as much as I regard him. Yet, that only increases my anxieties. As long as I could tell myself that he thought of me simply as a friend and colleague, I could convince myself not to do anything rash. Now, the way is open to declare...what?
Imagine, for a moment, that Mr Frazer and I were to marry. What would our life be like? He treats me with great liberality as things stand now. But what is marriage in our society but the possession of the woman by the man? Could I bear to put myself under a man's control, even one I respect and trust in all else?
It would mean an overthrow of my entire existence. There is no such thing as a married Governess. Can I possibly contemplate the abandonment of all the delicate freedoms I am presently possessed of?
However profound my attachment, I cannot bear the idea of staying at home (whatever Mr Frazer's home might be) while my husband travels the world risking life and limb for the sake of England.
I don't even know what income he has in a year. I can guess that it is neither so small as to force his wife to the ignominious fate of taking-in-washing, nor yet so high as to permit a full staff of servants. What would I do with my days?
Better by far to continue as we have been, where I am somewhat my own mistress, and can enjoy proximity to him while he continues the work he obviously loves...and I can continue to be useful to my friends and to my country.
And yet, can I resist making my feelings clear to him? I have been trying to find reasons to stay near him--all my companions are undoubtedly smirking behind their hands at my forward behaviour. I must look an utter fool.
But perhaps I am rushing into fevered imaginings. He has not spoken of his attachment to me--I only saw it in a dream. That is hardly a reliable source, at least for me.
I told Mr Frazer that parts of the dream were unclear--I was lying to avoid embarrassing either of us. The others in the dream--Schmidt and the woman--both spoke to Mr Frazer of me (at least I think it was me in both cases).
If I was truly sharing his dream, and if the dream was, in fact, a fairly accurate recollection of events of last Spring, then his regard for me was already strong. I can only feel that our mutual regard and understanding has grown since then.
Yet, he has made no declaration. Perhaps I am wrong about understanding...perhaps as he has come to know me better, he has only become aware of the flaws in my character. I am probably the most shrewish woman he has ever met.
If my inferences from the dream are correct, he was intimately acquainted with the woman "Velika." He believes that she gave her life to save him. I don't know that I can compete with the ghost of a Martyr in his regard.
But all that is moot, is it not, since I have only just declared that I could not bear to marry?
What a tangle.
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