A Letter written on Oct 2, 1918

Hillcrest Surgical Hospital
Wednesday night

Margaret dear:

It was sweet to find your letter from to Mother when I arrived this afternoon and all the little notes have helped that came to me this week. Of course you must not come this Friday and not until it is entirely safe. I feel as if I were leaving all my best-beloved ones on a battlefield and slinking off myself to safe seclusion from the Spanish invasion. - I can not bear to leave you run the risk of travel, but in ten days more let us hope it won't seem so risky.

I arrived at 2.30 and Mother met me. We had a little visit with Father and quite a cheerful tea before Harold Vincent came to bring me here. - "Here" isn't half bad though already they have done strange things to me. Hospitals will forever remain to me hopelessly indecent, I am afraid, but I shall try to be urbane.

Dear, I should like to see you with just plain ordinary eye sight but I don't know that you could seem very much more real than the you who seems to be sitting ever there in the big chair. You have the look that always rejoices me - a certain gleam, a see-it-through energy, and a sweetness which makes occasions like these rather worthwhile. How I love and trust and believe in that look of yours, Margaret. It helps, you know - and you ought to be glad about it.

The last days have been so sweet - sweet with beauty and rich in friendliness past all deserving. All those who loved the Poet at Wellesley have somehow seemed to look at me with her eyes, and yet to look through me to her love. I have been utterly at home in Wellesley these last days as I have not been since I left it first.

Hope came early this morning, and Hope [is] really quite keen on the job and eager to set forth her newest theories to the young. She went with me in the motor over to Framingham and I left her with the feeling that she will probably have a very good adventure out of it. But that does not lesson my feeling for the instant friendly willingness with which she was ready to come.

I found Bertha's letter here and it came [sic] me a vision of the autumn loveliness. My dear love to her and to you my constant love for all the days.

Goodnight -
Laura.