My dearest Mina,

I must say you are unfair to say that I have not been writing to you. I wrote twice since we last saw each other, and your last letter was only your second. Besides, I have nothing to tell you. There is really nothing to interest you. London is very pleasant just now, and we go a great deal to art galleries and for walks and rides in the park. I suppose that the tall, curly-haired man you mention is the man who was with me at the last ball. It seems as if someone has been telling tales.

His name is Mr. Holmwood. He often comes to see us, and he and mamma get on very well together. They have so many things in common to talk about. Some time ago we met a man who would be just right for you, if you were not already engaged to Jonathan. He is excellent - handsome, well off, and of good birth. He is a doctor and really clever.

Just imagine! He is only twenty-nine, and he is in charge of an immense lunatic asylum. After Mr. Holmwood introduced him, he came to visit us, and often comes now. I think he is one of the calmest men I have ever met. He seems absolutely imperturbable. This must be very useful in his work with his patients. He has a strange habit of looking one straight in the face, as if trying to read one's thoughts.