My dearest and angelic Evilyn,
It has been more than three weeks now since I ventured forth to the verdant birthplace of my kinfolk and crossed the pond. I have yet to receive any manner of response to my correspondence, my lonesome dove.
Have I offended thee in some fashion? Have I not attended to your every whim and desire and in some way left you wanting? Have you, in my prolonged absence, found yourself another suitor perhaps? I pray this is not so.
It grieves me egregiously to be torn apart from you, but the thought that your heart could be even farther from me than you presently are is more than I can bear.
I am avidly awaiting your forthcoming letter.
Ever and eternally yours,
Craven Nathaniel Stirge