Duke of Camellias

EPILOGUE

Dear Morris Davis—

In the miracle that you receive this letter, for you have changed residence without informing me, I want to say I deeply apologize for not sending a letter earlier. I had to ask Laurence for your new address and it took him quite some time to respond.

Laurence has told me of the birth of your daughter, Lenore, and you can't imagine how happy I have been to hear it. Thank you for the beautiful name; I'm sure Eleanora, in Heaven, would thank you. It means more than anything to me. If I return to England, do let the Duke and I come over someday and meet your precious Lenore. I hope Daphne is recovering safely, too.

France is beautiful, and I've been learning the language, too. Our friends say I am doing well for two years, and although it may only be consolation, I truly love the language. I've been writing poetry, too, occasionally in French. Mademoiselle Elodie has married, and she is now Madame Chevotat. Monsieur Chevotat has welcome me warmly in his group of friends, and in the salon we talk about writing everyday. I've befriended famous writers, and we talk about literature without cease. I thought I would be sick of it, but I never am.

With love,
Blair Millais

Dear Laurence O'Sullvan—

Congratulations on the book you published, I never imagined you shall have finished one before me, but life is full of surprises. It made me cry; I never knew you were such a romantic at heart. I must work harder too, if I don't want to be left in the dust.

France is beautiful, so you must come some day—I know you will enjoy the food here, if nothing else. There are many people here who love Wilde, too.

I've never thanked you for the months you took care of me. I still have fond memories of England thanks to you. In France they have many beautiful parks and gardens, and the cigars, I've heard, are wonderful (as you would say, magnificent). If you should ever come, this time I will be your host and bring you to beautiful sights. The Duke is doing fine, and I haven't worked on writing a novel as much, only fairy tales and the such.

The Duke of Thornton would like to say something to you, too, but he wouldn't write, so I will say it.

'Thank you.'

With Love,
Blair Millais

Dear Christopher Collins,

I heard of your marriage to Lady Isabel and wish to congratulate you. I apologize for the late letter, I thought it might lead to some misunderstanding and decided to send it after you moved out of your family house. If the Duke and I shall ever return to England, I hope we can have a meeting once again. The past has been forgotten, and I have rewritten the Prince of Camellias, and in the hopes that you might want to read it I have included the manuscript.

I suppose you've heard of the famous Pre-Raphaelites painter, Charles Waterhouse. Famous for painting love scenes, and a beautiful youth who bares no resemblance to me. People have hailed the paintings as the masterwork of the century.

Worry not, for the both of us have been enjoying life in France despite my poor understanding of the tongue. I have been reading many French novels as of late to help, and Madame Bovary is a favorite—it's so terribly melancholic. Did you know Gustavo Flaubert has a quote that says, 'One can be the master of what one does, but never of what one feels'? I think about it often—just last night, actually—and it reassures me. I send this to you in hopes that it does for you, too.

With love,
Blair Millais

Dear Cindy,

I heard about mother's passing. Leave Thornton, and go to my house in Rue Point, I have written down the address on the other paper enclosed. There are servants there I trust and will aid you.