FORMS OF LOVE LETTERS.
12.—An Ardent Declaration.
Naperville, Ill., June 10th, 1915
My Dearest Laura:
I can no longer restrain myself from writing to you, dearest
and best of girls, what I have often been on the point of
saying to you. I love you so much that I cannot find words in
which to express my feelings. I have loved you from the very
first day we met, and always shall. Do you blame me because I
write so freely? I should be unworthy of you if I did not tell
you the whole truth. Oh, Laura, can you love me in return?
I am sure I shall not be able to bear it if your answer is
unfavorable. I will study your every wish if you will give
me the right to do so. May I hope? Send just one kind word to
your sincere friend.
HARRY SMITH.
13.—A Lover's Good-bye Before Starting on a Journey.
Pearl St., New York, March 11th, 1894.
My Dearest Nellie: I am off to-morrow, and yet not altogether,
for I leave my heart behind in your gentle keeping. You need
not place a guard over it, however, for it is as impossible
that it should stay away, as for a bit of steel to rush from a
magnet. The simile is eminently correct for you, my dear girl,
are a magnet, and my heart is as true to you as steel. I shall
make my absence as brief as possible. Not a day, not an hour,
not a minute, shall I waste either in going or returning. Oh,
this business; but I wont complain, for we must have something
for our hive besides honey—something that rhymes with it—and
that we must have it, I must bestir myself. You will find me
a faithful correspondent. Like the spider, I shall drop a line
by (almost) every post; and mind, you must give me letter for
letter. I can't give you credit. Your returns must be prompt
and punctual.
Passionately yours,
LEWIS SHUMAN.
To Miss Nellie Carter,
No. — Fifth Avenue, New York.
14.—From an Absent Lover.
Chicago, Ill., Sept. 10, 1915
My Dearest Kate: This sheet of paper, though I should cover
it with loving words, could never tell you truly how I long
to see you again. Time does not run on with me now at the
same pace as with other people; the hours seem days, the days
weeks, while I am absent from you, and I have no faith in the
accuracy of clocks and almanacs. Ah! if there were truth in
clairvoyance, wouldn't I be with you at this moment! I wonder
if you are as impatient to see me as I am to fly to you?
Sometimes it seems as if I must leave business and every
thing else to the Fates, and take the first train to Dawson.
However, the hours do move, though they don't appear to, and
in a few more weeks we shall meet again. Let me hear from you
as frequently as possible in the meantime. Tell me of your
health, your amusements and your affections.
Remember that every word you write will be a comfort to me.
Unchangeably yours,
WILLIAM MILLER.
To Miss Kate Martin,
Dawson, N.D.
15.—A Declaration of Love at First Sight.
Waterford, Maine, May 8th, 1915
Dear Miss Searles:
Although I have been in your society but once the impression
you have made upon me is so deep and powerful that I cannot
forbear writing to you, in defiance of all rules of etiquette.
Affection is sometimes of slow growth but sometimes it springs
up in a moment. In half an hour after I was introduced to you
my heart was no longer my own, I have not the assurance
to suppose that I have been fortunate enough to create any
interest in yours; but will you allow me to cultivate your
acquaintance in the hope or being able to win your regard in
the course of time? Petitioning for a few lines in reply.
I remain, dear Miss Searles,
Yours devotedly,
E.C. NICKS.
Miss E. Searles,
Waterford, Maine.
16.—Proposing Marriage.
Wednesday, October 20th, 1894
Dearest Etta:
The delightful hours I have passed in your society have left
an impression on my mind that is altogether indelible,
and cannot be effaced even by time itself. The frequent
opportunities I have possessed, of observing the thousand acts
of amiability and kindness which mark the daily tenor of your
life, have ripened my feelings of affectionate regard into
a passion at once ardent and sincere until I have at length
associated my hopes of future happiness with the idea of you
as a life partner, in them. Believe me, dearest Etta, this is
no puerile fancy, but the matured results of a long and warmly
cherished admiration of your many charms of person and mind.
It is love—pure devoted love, and I feel confident that your
knowledge of my character will lead you to ascribe my motives
to their true source.
May I then implore you to consult your own heart, and should
this avowal of my fervent and honorable passion for you
be crowned with your acceptance and approval, to grant me
permission to refer the matter to your parents. Anxiously
awaiting your answer,
I am, dearest Etta,
Your sincere and faithful lover,
GEO. COURTRIGHT.
To Miss Etta Jay,
Malden, Ill.
17.—From a Gentleman to a Widow.
Philadelphia, May 10th, 1915
My Dear Mrs. Freeman:
I am sure you are too clear-sighted not to have observed the
profound impression which your amiable qualities, intelligence
and personal attractions have made upon my heart, and as you
nave not repelled my attentions nor manifested displeasure
when I ventured to hint at the deep interest I felt in your
welfare and happiness, I cannot help hoping that you will
receive an explicit expression of my attachments, kindly and
favorably. I wish it were in my power to clothe the feelings
I entertain for you in such words as should make my pleadings
irresistible; but, after all, what could I say, more than you
are very dear to me, and that the most earnest desire of my
soul is to have the privilege of calling you my wife? Do
you, can you love me? You will not, I am certain, keep me in
suspense, for you are too good and kind to trifle for a moment
with sincerity like mine. Awaiting your answer,
I remain with respectful affection,
Ever yours,
HENRY MURRAY.
Mrs. Julia Freeman,
Philadelphia.
18.—From a Lady to an Inconstant Lover.
Dear Harry:
It is with great reluctance that I enter upon a subject which
has given me great pain, and upon which silence has become
impossible if I would preserve my self-respects. You cannot
but be aware that I have just reason for saying that you have
much displeased me. You have apparently forgotten what is due
to me, circumstanced as we are, thus far at least. You cannot
suppose that I can tamely see you disregard my feelings, by
conduct toward other ladies from which I should naturally
have the right to expect you to abstain. I am not so vulgar a
person as to be jealous. When there is cause to infer changed
feelings, or unfaithfulness to promises of constancy, jealousy
is not the remedy. What the remedy is I need not say—we both
of us have it in our hands. I am sure you will agree with me
that we must come to some understanding by which the future
shall be governed. Neither you nor I can bear a divided
allegiance. Believe me that I write more in sorrow than
in anger. You have made me very unhappy, and perhaps
thoughtlessly. But it will take much to reassure me of your
unaltered regard.
Yours truly,
EMMA.