“Miss Hattie:—I feel embarrassed, hardly knowing how to frame words to express a desire, a hope, and a fear.
“The desire is, in all sincerity, honor, truth, and tenderness, to possess you as my wife—the holiest relationship known on earth.
“The hope is that you will listen to and reciprocate a love which I believe to be pure and unselfish—a love based on your merits rather than your transcendent beauty—a love, which, though fervent, will be, I am sure, lasting as my life.
“A fear that I am not worthy of the boon I ask—your love and hand—or, alas for me if it prove so, that young as you are, some one else has already gained the heart which I would give worlds, were they mine, to claim as my own, all my own.
“Can you respond favorably to this petition? I ask no speedy answer. I will press no unwelcome suit. Come and go as you always do, bringing brightness when I see you, leaving a void in my eyes, but not in my heart, as you pass out, and when you feel that you can answer me do so, confident that I shall ever love you. I shall never presume to press one word on your ear which shall bring a frown on the face so dear to me. God bless you, Miss Hattie, and may He turn your heart to thoughts of your sincere friend,
“E. W——.”
For a love-letter, it was a model. I say so, and I ought to know, for, young as I am, I’ve got a waste-basket half full of them.
Tears started in Hattie’s eyes as she carefully refolded the letter and restored it to the envelope.
“He is a true and a noble man,” she said. “A gentleman in every sense. But I cannot return his love. How can I say so and not wound his generous and sensitive nature? I must think of it—I must ask advice and aid from that unfailing source which never will bid me do wrong.”
And the pure, sweet girl knelt by her humble bed in silent prayer. Then she arose, her heart lighter, her eyes bright with new inspiration.