An electric belt to cure what ails one

Tillie, my nursemaid since I was just a wee one, insisted I purchase this new-fangled item:

'Tis an electric belt, constructed using the most modern technology, and meant to cure my consumption and neurasthenia, and my many other maladies, some of which are not fit to mention in a public forum.

Of course, Papá thinks that tubercular symptoms are pleasant for the eye of young suitors, and that these need not be cured. I of course told him that I am betrothed to Horace and have no further need for men to be attentive to me, but he still thinks it unbecoming for a virginal lady to gain weight above 90 pounds and to have a flush restored to her glabrate face, let alone for her to breathe without wheezing and grasping for the nearest firm bicep to steady her! He certainly would deem it a stain on our family were my waist to grow too girthful to squeeze into my 18” corset. I told him he need not worry, that this new electric belt would only alleviate my symptoms enough so that I do not faint so often and may have the strength to leave the safety of my boudoir on a more regular basis.
This morning I received this delightful card from Horace:

Ah, the wonders of love!

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