Dear Diary

[Beatrice Browne]

Dear Diary

February 14, 1880

Another birthday comes without Caroline. Mr. Marlowe is just as fervent in his chasing of me as ever. I made the mistake of letting a giggle pass my lips at a joke of his. He has taken this as a sign that he's gotten through to me. He's becoming overly familiar now, after nearly two years of courtship. The few moments when we are alone he calls me Beatrice rather than Miss Davis. I do not like the way my name sounds on his tongue.

I am starting to think that perhaps he is not as taken with me as a person as I had originally thought. I think that perhaps in the beginning he was truly smitten with me, but now he sees me as a prize to be had. A trophy to add to his collection. I'm nothing but a game to him now. My impetuousness has made the man that had fancied me see me as nothing more than a conquest. I do not know how I feel about this. A part of me enjoyed being wanted, but now it isn't me he wants anymore.