Mt. Holyoke -
May 29, 1893My own Sweetheart, I have not written to you since morning - & between then & this afternoon have surely been years. Whenever I take up my pen to write you it is with fresh delight. Do you never tire of what I say? never half regret the letters of years ago in which I used to talk of other things than love? or used to seem to. You were a blind lover - but I was blind too - you might have forever been silent & I should never once have said "he seems to love me." The more I think of it the more surprisingly beautiful it seems to me that you loved as you did, were content with your love, spoke never of return nor even planned to speak sometime of it - it would be the heart of a hard woman that such perfect love, such fine devotion, would not win - Do you know that few men can conceive of such a thing - their first impulse always is to tell their love & ask a woman's love in return. A man who can love a woman for her sake alone, as you have always loved me, loves with a love which makes my heart stand still with rapture.
Your temperament is cold, dear, our heart is proud & has been so long shut to the warmth & sunshine of love that sometimes you despair & seem to yourself heartless & incapable of the greatest love. But dearest the coldness & harshness will melt away, we can banish them - we do not fear them - & then that gloriously pure & devoted love shall have full power over you. Oh few men can dream of such love - strange, oh how strange that you, whom I adore & love beyond all words, should give me this divinely beautiful love, a love which loses itself in the beloved. Yes so it is - God help me to be true to thee, my Lover. - sometimes I think I should like to call you that other name, that sweetest one - I love so, to hear you call me your wife - when you come home dear, say you would like to hear it - I will call you that name, just once.
Some of the girls have just been in to as me to chaperone them to Amherst tomorrow. Eight of them, girls I dont know very well either. No thank you - I dont do promiscuous chaperoning. I often go about with the girls, with girls who like me & care for
fmy company & are friends of mine - but chaperoning for the sake of chaperoning I will not do. I dont intend to play old maid school-teacher by going about with girls who are not anything to me. I dont want to keep the girls at home by refusing to go but all the girls know some teacher personally who is glad to go with them.Tues. noon -
I went to call upon Mrs. Jones last night, with Miss Hamilton & Mrs. J. gave me
asome lilies of the valley & I have them in our little vase - How did you ever think to get just that? it is so exactly what I love for flowers.Now I want to tell you about the picture - its a little sketch of tree-trunks & green branches, & soft grass underneath, cool & shadowy & restful - framed in a gold mat & gold frame, & there's just a suggestion of sunlight thro' the trees that blends with the gold setting - it is in one of the reception rooms, & all the year, at every possible opportunity, have put my head in the door of that room to have a glimpse of the little painting. The painting itself is perhaps 14x7 inches - small & delicate - & beautifully done I think - I've asked some people who ought to know a good deal more about it than I, too. Miss Worden did it & she does very fine work - Well, dear, I have been wild to posess [sic] a like picture, for our home. So when someone told me the other day that Miss Worden wasn't coming back next year, I went to her & asked her for how much she would paint me such a sketch. She said she had painted one for $12,00, but had one in her room which was painted some time ago & which she wanted to sell, - a better piece of work than the
pione in our parlor - & would let me have it for $10.00. Then the frame & mat will probably cost $4.00 -George dear I wish you could see it, for I want to buy it, & want to be sure you approve - yet I am sure you would be delighted with it, & its so simple & natural & quiet that it seems to me it can never go out of style. As to the technique I cannot judge, but I know Miss Worden is considered a very careful & true artist, much better than Miss Noble, our other art teacher - its not cheap work, at all. I couldn't begin to buy it at an artstore for that price Miss Randolph says - & next year Miss W. goes to Georgia, & she'll sell this if she has a chance. & I might never be able to get another - I know $15.00 is a good deal, & I know I need the money in other ways now - yet in the long run I believe I shall always be glad I took the picture while I could get it. I think you will be, too, dear - if I did not think so I should not want it. About the frame, I'm not sure - it might be 5.00 - Miss Worden herself thinks not more than $3.50 -
What do you think, George? But I shall have to decide before your answer comes - three weeks more only of schoool - & then Miss Worden will pack up & go away -
Darling, I am so tired these days - I dont feel like doing anything but staying in my little blue & white room & writing to you. I am very well, but the year has been hard in some ways, & my heart longs for you. I wish I could see you just a minute this morning - the day is so beautiful, & a deep joy is in my heart, a joy that is half-pain. The tired is half-imagination, for tomorrow I'm going on a lark with some of my girls -
Our wedding, my darling, shall be as sacred & sweet & beautiful as we can make it. Oh I hope there will be sunset glory & coming twilight & the fragrance of flowers - & the friends we love most about us - I think you, sweet, for wanting it to be as I want it. I think we shall agree perfectly about it, our tastes are always alike.
I am sorry you cannot be at Halle & at Harvard too, dear. but I cannot let you regret Germany - it half hurt me when you spoke of it in your last letter. but I really didn't care at all when I thought about it a moment for I know that you do want to come home to me.
I will ask Celia for the letter if I may - she would very likely send it to me anyhow.
'Tis a holiday - May 30. I am longing for the warm summer days when you & I shall wander about over this beautiful country together. I am going down to the garden now to get some pansies. I want to wear them with my white muslin. Besides I want to get freckled - I shall accomplish that much before you come home. You shall have all the freckles you want, foolish boy, or you shall look at them all you want to & I shant care I shall only be falling more desperately in love every minute.
Your Lisa.