Subject uncooperative.

Screams constantly.

Moved to basement so servants could work, hoped to sleep, but can still hear through floor and cannot sleep. Nervous tension everywhere. Was attacked on last visit to room, inhumanly strong. Good sign but does not respond to name. Responds to nothing but screams screams screams. I talk. Talk till no more words, but still no response. Just screams. Must be agony. Cannot go on without injuring throat, but has gone on three days now and not grown hoarse, not grown quiet. Fear my procedures repaired throat without repairing mind. Fear mind dying, while body goes on? Must try further experiments. Must try to get response. Must sleep. Must.

Must

Told steward was delirium. Needs dark and no visitors. Quiet.

Obvious lie. Steward’s children, visiting, said sounded like childbirth. Something like, suppose.

Screams all day, and all night. Steward must hear. Will ask more questions. Must sleep. Must watch steward. If gets suspicious may be trouble. Have going into town now for more supplies. Medicine, told him. Medicine and chemicals. New batteries. May stimulate what formulae could not. May inspire suspicion. Must have despite. Must work out how to apply without damage. Must work out how to sleep. Must

(Document has no date)

I may be falling in love.

Ah but what does it matter. I’m not writing this to anyone, just to put my thoughts on paper. Organize what must be done. Marriage? Wedding Ring? It seems all premature. I’ve only just begun my studies and there is much still to do if I am going to finish university and return to the manor. Father says must have strong foundation in the basics if am going to bring life into the world. Midwives not to be trusted. Science, medicine, germ theory, and all that. Must study, but here I am writing about my feelings because they seem to be overwhelming me.

She’s a beautiful girl. I wish that I could draw her, but I’m no good with the pencil. I think that I would draw her standing in the woods, next to the little creek where we always go walking, maybe under the willow tree in the yellow dress that makes her seem to glow. I wish I could draw her like that, then I could keep her with me always, even when we must part. She doesn’t go to school but says she’d like to. Maybe to become a nurse or a midwife. She knows so many medical students. Her father is a professor at the school, or used to be before he retired. Knows so many funny things, very different from his wife who is quiet and unassuming except when she catches me walking with her daughter. Then very excited, almost to the point of inarticulation which always embarrasses Emily.

Emily.

Is it too early to get a ring? Perhaps father would know. Should speak to him but would tell me must focus on studies. Learn much so that I might do much. High expectations. Awards.

Awards.

All want is Emily.

But she may not want the same. May just enjoy our walks.

Must think on this, and study, meantime, so that I will not disappoint her with a husband who is not as clever as her father, but must, maybe, ask what she would look for in a husband.

No, too bold. Must be circumspect. What sort of future do you see for yourself? What sort of… who? Perhaps me? Would make me very happy, but would I make her? Not if I cannot make her happy, and comfortable is happy, mother used to say, before she died. Wish she were here. Would ask her what she would say.

Perhaps is not too early for a ring.

But is too late for shopping.

Candle almost out. Will sleep for now. Think on it in the morning, after classes.

Wish me luck.

Self.

(Dated July of 1892)