January 2010 Archives
Dear Readers,
The other Bryn Mawrters cannot help me. It is Lantern Night. They are at the Step Sing in October on the Steps of Taylor Hall. Each girl has a lantern. They sing, "Akouee!" in classical Greek. If I hadn't been trying to finish my classics paper, I would have been with them. That would have been far better than where I am now, still staring at Ali outside my dorm room window.
I can hear the girls from here. Window and doors are open across the hallway. It is a still October night, and nothing is that far away from anything else on the Bryn Mawr campus.
Should I scream? Maybe someone will hear me. But then Ali might shoot me, too.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. It was easier to escape from the Lusitania than to escape from Ali in Denbigh Hall.
The other Bryn Mawrters cannot help me. It is Lantern Night. They are at the Step Sing in October on the Steps of Taylor Hall. Each girl has a lantern. They sing, "Akouee!" in classical Greek. If I hadn't been trying to finish my classics paper, I would have been with them. That would have been far better than where I am now, still staring at Ali outside my dorm room window.
I can hear the girls from here. Window and doors are open across the hallway. It is a still October night, and nothing is that far away from anything else on the Bryn Mawr campus.
Should I scream? Maybe someone will hear me. But then Ali might shoot me, too.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. It was easier to escape from the Lusitania than to escape from Ali in Denbigh Hall.
Dear Readers,
It's only practical, isn't it? Edward is six thousand miles away in the Dardanelles. He can't appear to rescue me. Michael is in New York. That isn't very far away from Philadelphia. If I barricade myself in the downstairs bathroom and wait, maybe he can make it down to the Bryn Mawr campus in time.
I have to race down the hall and get to the pay phone. There aren't any other girls to help me. It is October, and they are all at Taylor Hall at the Step-Sing.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Michael and I helped rescue each other from the Lusitania.
It's only practical, isn't it? Edward is six thousand miles away in the Dardanelles. He can't appear to rescue me. Michael is in New York. That isn't very far away from Philadelphia. If I barricade myself in the downstairs bathroom and wait, maybe he can make it down to the Bryn Mawr campus in time.
I have to race down the hall and get to the pay phone. There aren't any other girls to help me. It is October, and they are all at Taylor Hall at the Step-Sing.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Michael and I helped rescue each other from the Lusitania.
Dear Readers,
I am still standing here in my dorm room at Byrn Mawr College. I have been standing here since the last time I wrote you. Ali is still crouching on the windowsill eyeing me. I'm glad the window is locked. It gives me more time to write. But I wish Edward were here instead of six thousand miles away in Gallipoli in the Dardanelles. I mean, I don't have a gun, and I don't know how to shoot. How do I defend myself?
Please don't abandon me here for much longer.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. This is far worse than the Lusitania!
I am still standing here in my dorm room at Byrn Mawr College. I have been standing here since the last time I wrote you. Ali is still crouching on the windowsill eyeing me. I'm glad the window is locked. It gives me more time to write. But I wish Edward were here instead of six thousand miles away in Gallipoli in the Dardanelles. I mean, I don't have a gun, and I don't know how to shoot. How do I defend myself?
Please don't abandon me here for much longer.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. This is far worse than the Lusitania!
Dear Readers,
I want to remind you Monday is February 1. That is the publication date for King Abdullah's Tomb.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
I want to remind you Monday is February 1. That is the publication date for King Abdullah's Tomb.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
Dear Readers,
I have been absorbed in writing an archaeology paper on the Carchemish dig, supervised and directed by none other than Leonard Woolley and T. E. Lawrence in 1913-1914. I told the professor that I met Woolley in person in an English country house. All the girls were very impressed.
But one day when I was carrying a stack of books back to my dorm room at Denbigh Hall, I saw someone shadowing me. I raced into Denbigh with my stash from the Art and Archaeology Library. But when I got up to the second floor and locked the door, who did I see on the window sill right outside my room eying me? You guessed it! It was none other than Ali himself!
I've written to Edward asking him to write to his parents. He is supposed to ask if Ali is still at Ware House. Obviously he isn't. The Wares pay little attention to where their gardener wanders.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. I wondered how he had escaped from the Lusitania. Then I wondered how he had gotten to Pennsylvania. The Arab seems to have nine lives.
I have been absorbed in writing an archaeology paper on the Carchemish dig, supervised and directed by none other than Leonard Woolley and T. E. Lawrence in 1913-1914. I told the professor that I met Woolley in person in an English country house. All the girls were very impressed.
But one day when I was carrying a stack of books back to my dorm room at Denbigh Hall, I saw someone shadowing me. I raced into Denbigh with my stash from the Art and Archaeology Library. But when I got up to the second floor and locked the door, who did I see on the window sill right outside my room eying me? You guessed it! It was none other than Ali himself!
I've written to Edward asking him to write to his parents. He is supposed to ask if Ali is still at Ware House. Obviously he isn't. The Wares pay little attention to where their gardener wanders.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. I wondered how he had escaped from the Lusitania. Then I wondered how he had gotten to Pennsylvania. The Arab seems to have nine lives.
Dear Readers:
Edward wrote me that he is being awarded the Victoria Cross. My father looked it up in the Encyclopedia Britannica. It is the highest military award that England gives its soldiers. The medal is being given to all the soldiers who survived the Battle of Gallipoli.
Now that I have heard from him I can return to Bryn Mawr College for the fall semester, 1915, the first semester of my senior year. But when we drove Route 30 all the way from Pittsburgh to Eastern Pennsylvania, we soon discovered that Ali was tailing us. He kept on bumping into the back of our car. Then when we stopped at Old Bedford Village at the auto court there, he stole my purse. He followed me into a pretzel shop. While my mother was ordering pretzels with mustard for my father for dinner, Ali asked me where "it" was.
The girl behind the counter told her father about the foreigner harassing the customers in the shop. Ali sneaked away. But some of the men started picking on Eastern Europeans. My father said it was something when World War I had spread to rural Pennsylvania.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. How did Ali, whom I first saw on the Lusitania, find out where I lived? How did he find me the Pennsylvania countryside?
Edward wrote me that he is being awarded the Victoria Cross. My father looked it up in the Encyclopedia Britannica. It is the highest military award that England gives its soldiers. The medal is being given to all the soldiers who survived the Battle of Gallipoli.
Now that I have heard from him I can return to Bryn Mawr College for the fall semester, 1915, the first semester of my senior year. But when we drove Route 30 all the way from Pittsburgh to Eastern Pennsylvania, we soon discovered that Ali was tailing us. He kept on bumping into the back of our car. Then when we stopped at Old Bedford Village at the auto court there, he stole my purse. He followed me into a pretzel shop. While my mother was ordering pretzels with mustard for my father for dinner, Ali asked me where "it" was.
The girl behind the counter told her father about the foreigner harassing the customers in the shop. Ali sneaked away. But some of the men started picking on Eastern Europeans. My father said it was something when World War I had spread to rural Pennsylvania.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. How did Ali, whom I first saw on the Lusitania, find out where I lived? How did he find me the Pennsylvania countryside?
Dear Readers,
Edward told me how he survived the Battle of Gallipoli. He doesn't like trench warfare. So he is getting transferred to fight under Lawrence of Arabia. They are going to a different theater. Edward says Lawrence has a way of fighting the Turks more successfully in a different place at a different time.
I wrote him back and pleaded with him. Please come home to me. You don't want to get killed in a trench. You don't want to get killed in an exotic, unknown place. So far I haven't heard back from him.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. The Battle of Gallipoli sounds worse than the Lusitania.
Edward told me how he survived the Battle of Gallipoli. He doesn't like trench warfare. So he is getting transferred to fight under Lawrence of Arabia. They are going to a different theater. Edward says Lawrence has a way of fighting the Turks more successfully in a different place at a different time.
I wrote him back and pleaded with him. Please come home to me. You don't want to get killed in a trench. You don't want to get killed in an exotic, unknown place. So far I haven't heard back from him.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. The Battle of Gallipoli sounds worse than the Lusitania.
Dear Readers,
I rushed into the house and asked VIola if there was a letter for me from Edward. That was the first thing I did upon arriving back from New York after The Philadelphia docked. But there was nothing except letters from girls at Bryn Mawr College. I had to wait all summer long pacing back and forth up the gravel driveway to the mailbox and back to the rose garden. Finally Chuck announced the arrival of Edward's first letter. I hardly got four lines into it before I was aghast at the danger. He had almost been killed. My parents had a party to discuss Gallipoli with their friends. I kept to myself and did not say much.
Instead I got up my courage and called Michael Byrne. I had his phone number from our days on The Philadelphia and the Lusitania. I told him about Edward and spilled out the whole story about the Dardanelles and Gallipoli. Michael asked what I expected. I said I wanted to talk Edward out of staying in the army. Michael agreed I should try. I asked him if he thought Edward would come home. Michael answered that he would if he were Edward.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
I rushed into the house and asked VIola if there was a letter for me from Edward. That was the first thing I did upon arriving back from New York after The Philadelphia docked. But there was nothing except letters from girls at Bryn Mawr College. I had to wait all summer long pacing back and forth up the gravel driveway to the mailbox and back to the rose garden. Finally Chuck announced the arrival of Edward's first letter. I hardly got four lines into it before I was aghast at the danger. He had almost been killed. My parents had a party to discuss Gallipoli with their friends. I kept to myself and did not say much.
Instead I got up my courage and called Michael Byrne. I had his phone number from our days on The Philadelphia and the Lusitania. I told him about Edward and spilled out the whole story about the Dardanelles and Gallipoli. Michael asked what I expected. I said I wanted to talk Edward out of staying in the army. Michael agreed I should try. I asked him if he thought Edward would come home. Michael answered that he would if he were Edward.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
Dear Readers,
We landed in New York. We disembarked from The Philadelphia. During our last breakfast I overheard Michael tell my father that he wanted to propose to me. I asked to talk to him. I asked him if he could forget about Edward and just be my friend. He snapped at me that I was very foolish and would have to learn the hard way. He was not going to play my fool while I slipped off with Edward whenever I got a chance.
I thought those were very harsh words. Michael and I used to be such friends and companions on the Lusitania. He helped to save my life just as I helped to save his. I thought we would be best friends forever. But he's decided to become jealous of Edward.
I will never feel about another man the way I do about Edward. Why can't Michael understand that?
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. I guess when Michael and I were such boon companions on the Lusitania, it was before I had met Edward.
We landed in New York. We disembarked from The Philadelphia. During our last breakfast I overheard Michael tell my father that he wanted to propose to me. I asked to talk to him. I asked him if he could forget about Edward and just be my friend. He snapped at me that I was very foolish and would have to learn the hard way. He was not going to play my fool while I slipped off with Edward whenever I got a chance.
I thought those were very harsh words. Michael and I used to be such friends and companions on the Lusitania. He helped to save my life just as I helped to save his. I thought we would be best friends forever. But he's decided to become jealous of Edward.
I will never feel about another man the way I do about Edward. Why can't Michael understand that?
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. I guess when Michael and I were such boon companions on the Lusitania, it was before I had met Edward.
Dear Readers,
Michael Byrne, my parents, and I have been aboard The Philadelphia forever. I wonder if we will ever get back to the States. I keep wondering if Edward has reached his destination in the Dardanelles. I don't know exactly how long it would take to get there from England. But I keep on hoping every day that he will write me his first letter as he promised. I hope it will be waiting for me when I get home to Pittsburgh some days from now. After all, didn't Edward promise to write me every single day?
I am keeping my promise, too. I am writing him letters every day telling him how much I miss him. I look out over the gray North Atlantic and think how the vast gray waters are separating me from him. It makes me feel gloomy that I am getting farther and farther away from him all the time.
Will I ever see Edward again?
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. To think when I sailed to England on the Lusitania, I had never heard of Edward Ware!
Michael Byrne, my parents, and I have been aboard The Philadelphia forever. I wonder if we will ever get back to the States. I keep wondering if Edward has reached his destination in the Dardanelles. I don't know exactly how long it would take to get there from England. But I keep on hoping every day that he will write me his first letter as he promised. I hope it will be waiting for me when I get home to Pittsburgh some days from now. After all, didn't Edward promise to write me every single day?
I am keeping my promise, too. I am writing him letters every day telling him how much I miss him. I look out over the gray North Atlantic and think how the vast gray waters are separating me from him. It makes me feel gloomy that I am getting farther and farther away from him all the time.
Will I ever see Edward again?
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. To think when I sailed to England on the Lusitania, I had never heard of Edward Ware!
Dear Readers,
In later volumes my husband, Edward Ware, soon to become Colonel Sir Edward Ware, and eventually to become Major General Lord Edward Ware, has something of a political career as well as a military one. That is why you have started to circulate these rumors. I bet I know where they come from. Helga has been busy at work.
I repeat. I am not selling paintings of myself in the nude. No one has seen this painting of me posing as Mother Earth in Rubens's The Union Of Earth And Water. It is for private viewing only, and only Edward and I have seen it besides the lady artists who painted it.
Please stop repeating these rumors and telling them to everybody else. My phone is ringing off the hook nonstop with offers for one of these salacious paintings.
It makes me wish I had never allowed myself to be painted like that.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Life on the Lusitania was not so difficult!
In later volumes my husband, Edward Ware, soon to become Colonel Sir Edward Ware, and eventually to become Major General Lord Edward Ware, has something of a political career as well as a military one. That is why you have started to circulate these rumors. I bet I know where they come from. Helga has been busy at work.
I repeat. I am not selling paintings of myself in the nude. No one has seen this painting of me posing as Mother Earth in Rubens's The Union Of Earth And Water. It is for private viewing only, and only Edward and I have seen it besides the lady artists who painted it.
Please stop repeating these rumors and telling them to everybody else. My phone is ringing off the hook nonstop with offers for one of these salacious paintings.
It makes me wish I had never allowed myself to be painted like that.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Life on the Lusitania was not so difficult!
Dear Readers,
I posed as Mother Earth with a scarf between my thighs standing next to an overturned water jar. It was pouring into a spring. Next to me was Neptune trying to hold my hand. I was to be his bride.
This is the vignette. I did not create it, Rubens did. It is his painting called The Union of Earth And Water. It used to hang in our bedroom at Ware Hall behind a curtain next to our bed.
Edward was always trying to get me to pose in the nude since long before we were married. He has gotten me to pose in other paintings, too.
But this does not mean I am selling the paintings.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. At least I didn't have to pose nude on the Lusitania.
I posed as Mother Earth with a scarf between my thighs standing next to an overturned water jar. It was pouring into a spring. Next to me was Neptune trying to hold my hand. I was to be his bride.
This is the vignette. I did not create it, Rubens did. It is his painting called The Union of Earth And Water. It used to hang in our bedroom at Ware Hall behind a curtain next to our bed.
Edward was always trying to get me to pose in the nude since long before we were married. He has gotten me to pose in other paintings, too.
But this does not mean I am selling the paintings.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. At least I didn't have to pose nude on the Lusitania.
Dear Readers,
A rumor is spreading amongst people I know that I am selling photos of myself posing as Mother Earth in a Rubens oil reproduction of The Union Of Earth And Water. I will have to admit that I posed for a group of women artists in the West End shortly after I married Edward. But this was to please my husband and not to sell the painting. This also happened well after the time of King Abdullah's Tomb. So if I were you, I would just ignore the rumor.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P. S. More about this matter tomorrow. I will have to have the patience of Jove to explain everything, but if I could endure the Lusitania, I can endure this.
A rumor is spreading amongst people I know that I am selling photos of myself posing as Mother Earth in a Rubens oil reproduction of The Union Of Earth And Water. I will have to admit that I posed for a group of women artists in the West End shortly after I married Edward. But this was to please my husband and not to sell the painting. This also happened well after the time of King Abdullah's Tomb. So if I were you, I would just ignore the rumor.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P. S. More about this matter tomorrow. I will have to have the patience of Jove to explain everything, but if I could endure the Lusitania, I can endure this.
Dear Readers,
A persistent rumor has started that I am selling pictures of myself in the nude. I certainly am not! More about this rumor tomorrow, how it got started, and more.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
A persistent rumor has started that I am selling pictures of myself in the nude. I certainly am not! More about this rumor tomorrow, how it got started, and more.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
Dear Readers,
My memoirs are coming out on February 1. I am very busy getting them ready for the printer. I will see you again tomorrow night.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
My memoirs are coming out on February 1. I am very busy getting them ready for the printer. I will see you again tomorrow night.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
Dear Readers,
You must buy King Abdullah's Tomb, a volume with the working title In The Shadow Of The Sphinx, Captive At The Berghof, and Hitler's Daughter.
King Abdullah's Tomb will be on sale February 1 on Amazon.com
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. To squelch a rumor, no, I am not selling prints of the nude painting of me posing as Mother Earth in the Rubens painting The Union Of Earth And Water.
You must buy King Abdullah's Tomb, a volume with the working title In The Shadow Of The Sphinx, Captive At The Berghof, and Hitler's Daughter.
King Abdullah's Tomb will be on sale February 1 on Amazon.com
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. To squelch a rumor, no, I am not selling prints of the nude painting of me posing as Mother Earth in the Rubens painting The Union Of Earth And Water.
Dear Readers,
I would like to dress up as an Arab woman and sneak into Edward's tent at night. Would he know it was me as he made love to me in his cot? It is a fantasy of mine.
Black abayas are pretty formless and conceal almost everything. How could Edward tell it was me? Do women's bodies feel different when they are naked in a man's arms?
I wonder how many women Edward had made love to? How knowledgeable is he? Sigh! If he were here at my side, I would not let my thoughts wander into such unprofitable channels.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. I suppose if I survived the Lusitania I could survive anything!
I would like to dress up as an Arab woman and sneak into Edward's tent at night. Would he know it was me as he made love to me in his cot? It is a fantasy of mine.
Black abayas are pretty formless and conceal almost everything. How could Edward tell it was me? Do women's bodies feel different when they are naked in a man's arms?
I wonder how many women Edward had made love to? How knowledgeable is he? Sigh! If he were here at my side, I would not let my thoughts wander into such unprofitable channels.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. I suppose if I survived the Lusitania I could survive anything!
Dear Readers,
Here I sit in Pittsburgh and watch the snow fly outside my bedroom window. I dream of Edward over there in the Syrian Desert riding with Lawrence. I think that the weather must be much warmer over there. And I bet it doesn't snow!
No wonder he can sit in his tent at night and write me long missives. He doesn't have to have heaters or fires. He talks about blankets because of the chilly desert nights in the winter. But in the daytime it gets quite warm.
When I read about the Western Front in the Pittsburgh papers I see that Edward is in a very different theater. He doesn't fight in trenches. He fights on a camel. And he doesn't fight every day. Nor are the soldiers on the Western Front blowing up Turkish railroads with tulip bombs. Nor do they ride through colorful Roman cities like Petra to hide from the enemy.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P. S. I bet Syria beats the Lusitania, too!
Here I sit in Pittsburgh and watch the snow fly outside my bedroom window. I dream of Edward over there in the Syrian Desert riding with Lawrence. I think that the weather must be much warmer over there. And I bet it doesn't snow!
No wonder he can sit in his tent at night and write me long missives. He doesn't have to have heaters or fires. He talks about blankets because of the chilly desert nights in the winter. But in the daytime it gets quite warm.
When I read about the Western Front in the Pittsburgh papers I see that Edward is in a very different theater. He doesn't fight in trenches. He fights on a camel. And he doesn't fight every day. Nor are the soldiers on the Western Front blowing up Turkish railroads with tulip bombs. Nor do they ride through colorful Roman cities like Petra to hide from the enemy.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P. S. I bet Syria beats the Lusitania, too!
Dear Readers,
Edward has written me that he might get the soldiers to buy my memoirs, King Abdullah's Tomb. He says to send him copies and he will autograph them and distribute them. He predicts that my volume might even be a bestseller.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Maybe they will like the part about the Lusitania.
Edward has written me that he might get the soldiers to buy my memoirs, King Abdullah's Tomb. He says to send him copies and he will autograph them and distribute them. He predicts that my volume might even be a bestseller.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Maybe they will like the part about the Lusitania.
Dear Readers,
King Abdullah's Tomb is available for pre-order on Amazon.com. The title has been stocked. It should ship soon, probably in about two weeks. You won't be able to put down the first volume of my memoirs of the Great War.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Remember, it opens with the Lusitania.
King Abdullah's Tomb is available for pre-order on Amazon.com. The title has been stocked. It should ship soon, probably in about two weeks. You won't be able to put down the first volume of my memoirs of the Great War.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Remember, it opens with the Lusitania.
Dear Readers,
Should Edward have a nude picture of me? Well, he certainly knows what I look like without my clothes on! Most of our acquaintance last May, 1915 was spent stripped down in bed in a townhouse in London. He knows the location of every freckle.
The problem is other people. I wouldn't want my parents to know I sent him such a picture. My father in particular would have a fit. I wouldn't want Edward's mother to find out either. And I wouldn't particularly like to have someone else develop the film of me in the nude or paint me in the nude. It would be quite embarrassing --- unless Edward could do it himself, of course. I wouldn't mind posing for him naked at all. But Edward doesn't paint.
Maybe this is an idle thought. But then what else am I supposed to think about with Edward on the other side of the Atlantic, thousands of miles away.
My experience on the Lusitania certainly didn't prepare me for this!
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
Should Edward have a nude picture of me? Well, he certainly knows what I look like without my clothes on! Most of our acquaintance last May, 1915 was spent stripped down in bed in a townhouse in London. He knows the location of every freckle.
The problem is other people. I wouldn't want my parents to know I sent him such a picture. My father in particular would have a fit. I wouldn't want Edward's mother to find out either. And I wouldn't particularly like to have someone else develop the film of me in the nude or paint me in the nude. It would be quite embarrassing --- unless Edward could do it himself, of course. I wouldn't mind posing for him naked at all. But Edward doesn't paint.
Maybe this is an idle thought. But then what else am I supposed to think about with Edward on the other side of the Atlantic, thousands of miles away.
My experience on the Lusitania certainly didn't prepare me for this!
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
Dear Readers,
Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but Edward has written me begging me to pose in the nude and send him the paintings. He wants to put them up in his tent in the desert. I think he's pulling my leg. But I'm not sure. I went to the library and looked up the two paintings he has requested. They are Rubens's The Union Of Earth And Water and Titian's The Venus of Urbino.
I am shocked! In The Union Of Earth And Water I would get only a scarf to put between my thighs. Otherwise I would not be wearing a stitch of clothing. In The Venus of Urbino, I wouldn't even have that! In the first painting I would be posing as a goddess. In the second I would be pretending I was a saucy aristocratic lady. What would my parents think?
I am shocked and flattered at the same time. I like to think of Edward thinking of me this way, if you know what I mean. But I cannot imagine doing it.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Nothing on the Lusitania prepared me for this.
Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but Edward has written me begging me to pose in the nude and send him the paintings. He wants to put them up in his tent in the desert. I think he's pulling my leg. But I'm not sure. I went to the library and looked up the two paintings he has requested. They are Rubens's The Union Of Earth And Water and Titian's The Venus of Urbino.
I am shocked! In The Union Of Earth And Water I would get only a scarf to put between my thighs. Otherwise I would not be wearing a stitch of clothing. In The Venus of Urbino, I wouldn't even have that! In the first painting I would be posing as a goddess. In the second I would be pretending I was a saucy aristocratic lady. What would my parents think?
I am shocked and flattered at the same time. I like to think of Edward thinking of me this way, if you know what I mean. But I cannot imagine doing it.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Nothing on the Lusitania prepared me for this.
Dear Readers,
I told you last night in my last entry that I wondered if Edward had not taken a lover in the Syrian Desert. He reminds me of the kind of man who needs a woman. But then, on the other hand, he puzzles me. He seems to spend all his free hours when he is not riding with Lawrence of Arabia or tending to the Colonel's paperwork, penning letters to me. His missives are quite long and detailed. And if he is seeing another woman, why does he ask me to send a memento to remember me by?
I sent him a pair of my silk stockings. He seemed to think that was just what he wanted. I ask you, does that sound like a man who is having an affair with another woman?
In short, Edward misses me a lot out in the wilds of Arabia.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. I should have confidence in myself. After all, I survived the Lusitania, didn't I?
I told you last night in my last entry that I wondered if Edward had not taken a lover in the Syrian Desert. He reminds me of the kind of man who needs a woman. But then, on the other hand, he puzzles me. He seems to spend all his free hours when he is not riding with Lawrence of Arabia or tending to the Colonel's paperwork, penning letters to me. His missives are quite long and detailed. And if he is seeing another woman, why does he ask me to send a memento to remember me by?
I sent him a pair of my silk stockings. He seemed to think that was just what he wanted. I ask you, does that sound like a man who is having an affair with another woman?
In short, Edward misses me a lot out in the wilds of Arabia.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. I should have confidence in myself. After all, I survived the Lusitania, didn't I?
Dear Readers,
Edward seemed to me like the kind of guy who wanted a woman around all the time. I was supposed to be that woman last May. Now he is supposed to be riding around the Syrian Desert with a pack of Bedouin warriors under Lawrence of Arabia. Where are the women?
I'm not saying that Edward doesn't miss me. But what if he's sleeping with another woman, a Bedouin slut, just because of that? Maybe he thinks she's second best and would rather have me in his bed but has to make do because I'm thousands of miles away. Should I feel insulted? Jealous?
I miss Edward terribly, but I don't go out and find another man to sleep with so I can pretend he is Edward. Is this the difference between male and female psychology?
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Soon it will be a year since I was on the Lusitania, and this is all I have to think about. Can you believe it?
Edward seemed to me like the kind of guy who wanted a woman around all the time. I was supposed to be that woman last May. Now he is supposed to be riding around the Syrian Desert with a pack of Bedouin warriors under Lawrence of Arabia. Where are the women?
I'm not saying that Edward doesn't miss me. But what if he's sleeping with another woman, a Bedouin slut, just because of that? Maybe he thinks she's second best and would rather have me in his bed but has to make do because I'm thousands of miles away. Should I feel insulted? Jealous?
I miss Edward terribly, but I don't go out and find another man to sleep with so I can pretend he is Edward. Is this the difference between male and female psychology?
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Soon it will be a year since I was on the Lusitania, and this is all I have to think about. Can you believe it?
Dear Readers,
How do I know that Edward is not seeing another woman out in the desert? It sounds far-fetched, but his father, Sir Adolphus, had an Arab princess as a mistress. Why not Edward? He could be meeting with her in his tent at night. He could kiss her when he is not writing me his long missives. Why not? I would not be the wiser! Then he could come home from the Syrian Desert and marry me, hoping I would never find out.
I doubt if there is anybody like me there. But there could be an enchantress with olive skin and dark eyes. She could come out of the Arabian Nights. For all I know, he could drag her back to London with him and install her in a townhouse. He could visit her whenever he was in town.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Is this what I deserve after the Lusitania?
How do I know that Edward is not seeing another woman out in the desert? It sounds far-fetched, but his father, Sir Adolphus, had an Arab princess as a mistress. Why not Edward? He could be meeting with her in his tent at night. He could kiss her when he is not writing me his long missives. Why not? I would not be the wiser! Then he could come home from the Syrian Desert and marry me, hoping I would never find out.
I doubt if there is anybody like me there. But there could be an enchantress with olive skin and dark eyes. She could come out of the Arabian Nights. For all I know, he could drag her back to London with him and install her in a townhouse. He could visit her whenever he was in town.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Is this what I deserve after the Lusitania?
Dear Readers,
Now that there is to be no wedding over Christmas,1915, I see an interminable amount of time stretching out before me. When will I see Edward again?
All I can do is dream about him. I wake up feeling very lonely. I don't even have a photo of Edward. I didn't think I would need one when I last saw him. I thought his letters would be enough, and then I would see him at Christmas. So all I can do it keep his latest letter under my pillow and cuddle with it. It is all I have of my fiance besides his Crusader engagement ring.
How long can this war last? You would think it would have ended with the Lusitania.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Valentine's Day is coming. Do you think Edward will remember to send me flowers?
Now that there is to be no wedding over Christmas,1915, I see an interminable amount of time stretching out before me. When will I see Edward again?
All I can do is dream about him. I wake up feeling very lonely. I don't even have a photo of Edward. I didn't think I would need one when I last saw him. I thought his letters would be enough, and then I would see him at Christmas. So all I can do it keep his latest letter under my pillow and cuddle with it. It is all I have of my fiance besides his Crusader engagement ring.
How long can this war last? You would think it would have ended with the Lusitania.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Valentine's Day is coming. Do you think Edward will remember to send me flowers?
Dear Readers,
I reaceived a letter telling me that Edward is getting transferred from the Dardanelles and is going off with a man named T. E. Lawrence. But they don't say where they are going. Even Edward's mother and father don't know.
Lots of time has gone by. It is getting close to Christmas. Is the wedding on or off? We have to know whether to sail to Britain or not. My father takes matters into his own hands and calls the British ambassador. The ambassador investigates and tells my father that Edward and Lawrence have been sent on a secret mission. No more information is forthcoming. I grab the phone and ask if we will be married at Christmas. The ambassador apologizes and says no.
Now I have to go to my room and gaze forlornly at the wedding gown hanging in the closet.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Sometimes I think I would rather relive the Lusitania than have to endure all this waiting and worrying about Edward.
I reaceived a letter telling me that Edward is getting transferred from the Dardanelles and is going off with a man named T. E. Lawrence. But they don't say where they are going. Even Edward's mother and father don't know.
Lots of time has gone by. It is getting close to Christmas. Is the wedding on or off? We have to know whether to sail to Britain or not. My father takes matters into his own hands and calls the British ambassador. The ambassador investigates and tells my father that Edward and Lawrence have been sent on a secret mission. No more information is forthcoming. I grab the phone and ask if we will be married at Christmas. The ambassador apologizes and says no.
Now I have to go to my room and gaze forlornly at the wedding gown hanging in the closet.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Sometimes I think I would rather relive the Lusitania than have to endure all this waiting and worrying about Edward.
Dear Readers,
My friend Rita Jolivet from my days on the Lusitania came back from the grave. I assumed she had drowned on May 7, 1915, but she showed up at my parents' house in Pittsburgh. We went to downtown Pittsburgh to shop for a wedding gown and a bridesmaid's dress for the Christmas wedding. We shopped at Kaufmanns and stopped to look at the Kaufmanns Clock. We met my parents and Mr. Byrne at the Duquesne Club for luncheon.
I wish Edward could have come with us. I can imagine him riding the trolley with his Victoria Cross. He would attract a lot of attention.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
My friend Rita Jolivet from my days on the Lusitania came back from the grave. I assumed she had drowned on May 7, 1915, but she showed up at my parents' house in Pittsburgh. We went to downtown Pittsburgh to shop for a wedding gown and a bridesmaid's dress for the Christmas wedding. We shopped at Kaufmanns and stopped to look at the Kaufmanns Clock. We met my parents and Mr. Byrne at the Duquesne Club for luncheon.
I wish Edward could have come with us. I can imagine him riding the trolley with his Victoria Cross. He would attract a lot of attention.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
Dear Fellow Characters,
I am bringing a lawsuit against Linda Cargill. I think she is abusing her powers as an author to put us characters through "the wringer". I've been sitting here in Pittsburgh suffering because I miss Edward, and the author makes this continue week after endless week and month after endless month. It is so unnecessary! Edward could get wounded and send home. He could desert. He could get transferred. The author did not have to act perverse and pick Lawrence of Arabia as a taskmaster for Edward. She could have picked somebody more normal and closer to Pittsburgh.
The author promised that Edward and I would be married by Christmas, 1915. I think a judge or jury should force her to keep her promise.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Isn't it bad enough she put me on the Lusitania?
I am bringing a lawsuit against Linda Cargill. I think she is abusing her powers as an author to put us characters through "the wringer". I've been sitting here in Pittsburgh suffering because I miss Edward, and the author makes this continue week after endless week and month after endless month. It is so unnecessary! Edward could get wounded and send home. He could desert. He could get transferred. The author did not have to act perverse and pick Lawrence of Arabia as a taskmaster for Edward. She could have picked somebody more normal and closer to Pittsburgh.
The author promised that Edward and I would be married by Christmas, 1915. I think a judge or jury should force her to keep her promise.
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. Isn't it bad enough she put me on the Lusitania?
Dear Readers,
I am so bored waiting for Edward to come to Pittsburgh and take me back to England that I have gone back to Bryn Mawr. I haven't been there since May 1 when I left to board the Lusitania with my parents. That was months ago, and my whole life has changed since. I was studying classics. Now it is hard to remember the Greek alphabet. All I can think of are Edward's green eyes and red hair.
My parents drove me back anyway to my dorm, Denbigh Hall. But they might as well not have bothered. The saboteurs followed me back to college. I got trapped in my dorm on Step Sing Night. Mr. Byrne had to come down from New York to rescue me. It was not any fun. We both returned home to my parents' house in Pittsburgh.
Edward, where are you?
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
I am so bored waiting for Edward to come to Pittsburgh and take me back to England that I have gone back to Bryn Mawr. I haven't been there since May 1 when I left to board the Lusitania with my parents. That was months ago, and my whole life has changed since. I was studying classics. Now it is hard to remember the Greek alphabet. All I can think of are Edward's green eyes and red hair.
My parents drove me back anyway to my dorm, Denbigh Hall. But they might as well not have bothered. The saboteurs followed me back to college. I got trapped in my dorm on Step Sing Night. Mr. Byrne had to come down from New York to rescue me. It was not any fun. We both returned home to my parents' house in Pittsburgh.
Edward, where are you?
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
Dear Readers,
If I could contemplate the New Year's Resolution I should have made back in 1915 as the year turned to 1916, I think I should have resolved that I would join Edward in the Syrian Desert no matter what. The worst thing I could do was to sit on the sidelines in Pittsburgh and wait like Penelope for my Odysseus to return to me. It was almost fatal to wait until 1918 to go looking for my fiance. By then Helga von Wessel had already gotten her claws into him
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. This was just as important as resolving not to board anymore ships like the Lusitania.
If I could contemplate the New Year's Resolution I should have made back in 1915 as the year turned to 1916, I think I should have resolved that I would join Edward in the Syrian Desert no matter what. The worst thing I could do was to sit on the sidelines in Pittsburgh and wait like Penelope for my Odysseus to return to me. It was almost fatal to wait until 1918 to go looking for my fiance. By then Helga von Wessel had already gotten her claws into him
Sincerely yours,
Dora Benley
P.S. This was just as important as resolving not to board anymore ships like the Lusitania.
