A colonial mansion, a hereditary estate, I would say a haunted house,
why should it be let so cheaply? And why have stood so long untended?
John laughs at me, of course, but one expects that in a marriage.
am absolutely forbidden to “work”
Personally, I disagree with their ideas.
So I will let it alone and talk about the house.
There comes John, and I must put this away, — he hates to have me write a word.
Of course it is only nervousness. It does weigh on me so not to do my duty in anyway! I mean to be such a help to John, such a real rest and comfort, and here I am a comparative burden already! Nobody would believe what an effort it is to do what little I am able, –to dress and entertain, and order things.
He laughs at me so about this–
a blessed little goose
Here comes John’s sister.
“What is it, little girl?”
“Bless her little heart!”
he would make fun of me.
“I’ve got out at last,” said I, “in spite of you and Jane?
Now why should that man have fainted? But he did, and right across on my path by the wall, so that I had to creep over him every time!
If a physician of high standing, and one’s own husband, assures friends and relatives that there is really nothing the matter with one but temporary nervous depression–a slight hysterical tendency–
It is quite alone, standing well back from the road, quite three miles from the village. It makes me think of English places that you read about, for there are hedges and walls and gates that lock,
He is very careful and loving, and hardly lets me stir without special direction.
Source: Everything Claire underlined while studying The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman in an American Literature and a Writing about Literature course.
Claire Ferris lives and writes in Windsor, Ontario. When she’s not busy writing about food, she’s most likely consuming it. Favourites include anything sweet, Mexican or breakfasty. She once won an award for “Seeing the best in people.”