My Liege Lady:-
That you may know that I am a loyal follower of the standard of the Forget-me-not I am writing you this note tonight, dear lady whose colors I wear. If you remember, - tho I'm sure you don't, - the very first note I ever wrote you was to "your Highness" - and I think I signed myself your devoted servant. The romantic side of me blended with my childish, fairy-tale side to make you the lady worthy of my service. And as you know, I "pretended" - as I used to play when I was young - many lovely things.
It's pleasant to recall them tonight, on St. Valentine's Day; for you know no one could ever love two people as I loved you. And this you laughed at me, I was happy in just being allowed to love you. (I put it all in the past tense because I love you differently now, with the difference that separation makes.) But I sometimes think I must have been a Knight of the Round Table, before I became a twentieth century American girl, for the chivalrous homage that they paid to their ladies fair I'm sure is just what I feel when I see you. And it makes me wonder more and more that you should even trouble to think of me.
Something like those were the thoughts I had two weeks ago, when you kissed me goodnight, and I left you. It's the kind of thoughts that lovers have when they're apart, at least the kind that a man has of the maiden he serves. Did you know that I knew so much? Do you mind that I tell you this? And tho the way I love you now is the fair, bright way of perfect, equal friendship, which is the noblest way; I shall never forget the loving devotion that my first love to you offered.
That is loyalty, but more personal than any that Prof. Royce speaks of. I am reading the book, - it takes a long time for there are so many paragraphs I must reread, there's so much in them, but it makes me see, so far, that the work I am doing might be, if I devoted myself to it, a cause worthy of loyalty. And inspired by a desire to be "loyal to loyalty," and inspired by the contagion of your evident loyalty to your work, I've taken up my work anew; and I've even more truly happy these last few days than I've ever been. As Prof. Royce says, the loyalty to a cause has added that unity to my life without which I was restless and dissatisfied.
So once again I owe to you a fresh impetus to my work. Before, because I strove by work to make myself more worthy of your friendship; now, because I love to be one with you, and with all the others who are loyal.
The things that one does every day - the Valentine parties, the opera, the calls, - do they not seem rather unessential, when one is talking of what one thinks, and hopes, and aims to be? And when we were together we seemed afraid to go beneath the surface, as is the way with friends. It's so easy to think, and so hard to say. So we take refuge in writing, when we have all to fear that the mood our friend is in when she receives the letter will misinterpret the message we sent. And you won't misunderstand me, will you, when I ask whether you think that the student's life, till the goal is reached and the teacher's life thereafter will make me feel that my life has been worth while, - if I do the best that I know?
I wanted to ask you when I saw you; but we weren't alone very much of the time; and when we were, we were afraid of our feelings, as I've said. And I wanted to ask you because you've had more experience, and because you know more of what I think, and seen, and am, than anyone else, even my own sister.
This is a strange letter, I realize, as I read it over; but I shall send it because it is a part of me. If it does not please you, do not answer it; forget that it was written. But at least accept the love that it brings you,
from your true Knight,
H. E. W.Feb. 14, 1909.
[A second letter was enclosed. Dated merely "Monday afternoon," it was probably written Feb 15, 1909.]
My Dearest Lady:-
Did you hear of the vow which I had made not to come to see you for a long, long time, or did you write me that dear note purely out of pity? You don't know, I'm sure, how hard it has been to keep the vow, even for this short time, (the time was very long to me) and was to keep it for two whole weeks more.
I'm afraid I won't be able to keep it now, but I was so afraid that I was boring you very much. You see I am bored myself by the constant visits which I receive from somebody, and I thought perhaps you felt just as I do. But perhaps I am not right in making a parallel of the two cases.
Some nights I looked to see whether your light was shining, and I was almost glad when I saw that it was not, for then I did not feel tempted to go where I longed to go. And when it was burning I spent the rest of the evening in restlessness and discontent.
I write this to you, my dear lady, because I could never tell it to you, and because I want you to know all about it. This is a regular Valentine, isn't it? So I must close it with much love.
Yours, as ever, Helen Wieand.
Monday afternoon.