UCSB LiBKAH!
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS OF A LIAR
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. WILLIAM ALLEN 
 
 ESS ESS PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 (Publishers of The Smart Set) 
 
 NEW YORK, I 135 BROADWAY, MCMI
 
 Copyright, 1900, by 
 ESS ESS PUBLISHING COMPANY
 
 I DEDICATE THIS LITTLE BOOK 
 
 TO THE MEN WHO COULDN'T 
 
 WOULDN'T AND DIDN'T 
 
 WRITE THESE LETTERS
 
 TO MY CRITICS 
 
 ''y BEJSTLT ambition, which 
 the gods grant thee i* attain 
 to ! If thou luert the lion, the fox 
 would beguile thee ; if thou wert the 
 lamb, the fox would eat thee ; if thou 
 wert the fox y the lion would suspect 
 thee, when peradventure thou wert 
 accused by the ass ; if thou wert the 
 ass, thy dulness would torment thee, 
 vii
 
 TO MT CRITICS 
 
 and still thou livedst but as a break- 
 fast to the wolf: f thou wert the 
 wolf thy greediness would afflict 
 thee^ and oft thou shouldst hazard 
 thy life for thy dinner : wert thou 
 the unicorn^ pride and wrath would 
 confound thee and make thine own 
 self the conquest of thy fury ; wert 
 thou a bear^ thou wouldst be killed 
 by the horse: wert thou a horse ^ 
 thou wouldst be seized by the leopard: 
 wert thou a leopard^ thou wert ger- 
 main to the lion and the spots of thy 
 viii
 
 TO Mr CRITICS 
 
 kindred were jurors on thy life : all 
 thy safety were remotion and thy de- 
 fence absence.** 
 
 — TiMON OF Athens.
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 V^ew York, January lO, 1899. 
 
 I THINK you will believe me 
 when I tell you that you have 
 filled my heart and brain ever 
 since some *' good-night words '* 
 that you remember. You spoke 
 with a prophetic confidence 
 when you said you could bring 
 back all my love for you if you
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 cared to try. You have brought 
 it back, sweetheart — if, indeed, 
 it ever went away — brought it 
 back in such a flame of color 
 and passion that all other women 
 in the world seem ghosts and 
 shadows, as in the old days. 
 
 Is it only for an experiment 
 that you have done this — is it 
 only to test your power? If 
 this was all, then you are more 
 cruel even than you are beauti- 
 ful, and I — just one more fool. 
 
 The quiet years — the years
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 you wrote me of as so easy and 
 humdrum and safe — I think have 
 gone, and the old wild, thrilling 
 hope of boyhood, which after all, 
 even in the deepest shadows, 
 never left my heart entirely — the 
 hope that in the hidden cham- 
 bers of your being your boy 
 sweetheart was still your best 
 and dearest — that hope has 
 come back, and will stay with 
 me until I carry it down into the 
 grave. And with it comes and 
 lingers a passionate longing to 
 
 5
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 be with you **and touch you 
 and breathe you and live.'* 
 
 Five years, you say, will come 
 and go before opportunity comes 
 again. And are you content ? 
 God help me, I am not ! It shall 
 not be, and if you really love me 
 it will not. Is my whole life to 
 go by with these long-separated 
 glimpses into paradise and then 
 the dull level of life's desert 
 sands for years and years ? I 
 swear to you before God, and in 
 all reverence for Him, that I be- 
 4
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 lieve if ever woman on this earth 
 owed the gift of happiness to the 
 man she loved you owe it to me, 
 if you do really love me. Some- 
 body says, *'We love our lost 
 loves for the love we gave them 
 and not for anything they gave 
 our love." Are you going to 
 make that a bitter truth in my 
 life forever and ever ? I do not 
 want, heaven knows, to bring 
 any disturbing influence into 
 your life — but oh, dear, dear 
 sweetheart, 1 do so hunger for 
 5
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 happiness! And nobody in the 
 world, by fate's or God's or for- 
 tune's inscrutable chance, can 
 bring me the supreme happiness 
 that ought to crown every man's 
 life hut yoti. You speak to me 
 about other women. Never for 
 a moment have you doubted 
 that you could bring me across 
 the world from any other woman ; 
 perhaps it would have been far 
 better for me if this had not been 
 so. You know it — you have 
 always known it — but you did
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 not care to call me. Now I am 
 not a boy any more — I am a 
 man with graying hair and many 
 sad memories and most of his 
 illusions gone. And yet in spite 
 of this I dream of a happiness 
 sweeter than heaven, of which 
 life still holds a possibility — and 
 that happiness lies in your sweet 
 open hands, my dearest, and no 
 one else in the world can give it 
 to me but you. 
 
 Now, what are you going to 
 do? Are you unwilling to frice 
 
 7
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 this Storm that you chose to re- 
 awaken, or are you willing to 
 say: ''He has loved me all his 
 life and I love him for that, if for 
 nothing else, and he shall not 
 love me any more in vain!" 
 Will you say that ? 
 
 I do not know why I have 
 dared to write you this, except 
 that life is slipping by and age 
 comes before we know it. Some- 
 how, when I am with you I can- 
 not speak these things that crowd 
 my heart. But if there be any- 
 8
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 thing in the communion of spir- 
 its, you must have heard mine 
 crying to you, pleading with 
 you, for the love of God, to give 
 me what is mine. 
 
 You cannot reply to this with 
 any force by referring to any 
 other episodes in my life. As I 
 said before, there has not been 
 any time in which you could not 
 hold me and draw me to you 
 and mould my life as you will. 
 I could have said, with the old 
 dramatist, and said at any mo- 
 
 9
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 ment these many years, with 
 some degree of truth : 
 
 Why, I hold fate clenched in my hand, 
 and could command the course of time's 
 eternal motion, hadst thou been a thought 
 more constant tiian the ebbing sea. 
 
 Now, isn't there some way for 
 me to see you ? God knows that 
 not even for my own happiness 
 would I have you run any risks 
 for me. And let me beg of you 
 right here — promise me, darling 
 — that just as soon as you have 
 read this letter you will destroy
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 it and all others of mine. Believe 
 me, it is the only way. 
 
 I do not know how you will 
 treat me after this letter. I know 
 what I hope, but I know, too, 
 how often hope has failed. And 
 I have hidden so much pain be- 
 hind the smiling lips you call 
 weak, that if the old lesson is 
 learned over again I shall not find 
 any new sensation in it. I have 
 lived too long — I am too old to 
 drench a midnight pillow any 
 more with the tears of vain re- 
 11
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 gret. But oh, sweetheart, I do 
 long for happiness ! ** So many 
 things must conspire to bring 
 about a perfect opportunity." 1 
 write the words from memory, 
 but they stay with me. A perfect 
 love, my darling, will make a per- 
 fect opportunity ; and if you love 
 me thus I will "command the 
 course of time's eternal motion" 
 to hold you on my heart again. 
 Good-night. I am very tired 
 and sad, and happy, too. I am 
 no coward, I swear it ; but yet I 
 
 12
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 almost fear to try to storm the 
 heights on which all that I love 
 in all the world awaits my vic- 
 tory. 
 
 Lawrence.
 
 II 
 
 New York, Fehruary 2, i8gg. 
 
 My Sweetheart : 
 
 I have read your letter over 
 and over and over, and now 
 that I know it by heart, I know, 
 too, that you are dearer to me 
 than ever before — if such a thing 
 be possible. 
 
 " What do you ask of me ?" 
 you say in it; and I answer in 
 loyalty and perfect faith, in Ten- 
 >5
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 nyson's words, that you will 
 " Lay your sweet hands in mine 
 and trust to me." That is all — 
 that you tell me you love me 
 and trust me. 
 
 Thrilled through as it has 
 always been with passionate 
 longing, all my life my love for 
 you has been to me a holy and 
 sacred thing, pure as the per- 
 fume of a flower; but, let me 
 say what is true, stirring my 
 blood with the same intoxicating 
 perfume that some flowers pos- 
 \6
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 sess. I know you understand 
 me. I believe you understand 
 that even if you came when I 
 were dying and bent over me, 
 and I felt your tears on my face 
 I should be happy if you said : 
 **He gave me all his life all the 
 love he had to give a woman, 
 and all the passion — and the 
 passion and the love were both 
 without a stain." 
 
 *' The gift of happiness ? " My 
 darling, you have made me hap- 
 pier than I hoped again to be in
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 my life. Not the perfect happi- 
 ness that would be mine on 
 earth if you were all my own — 
 body, soul and heart mine only. 
 Fate or God or chance or destiny 
 has made this seemingly now 
 impossible — but because you 
 have yielded to your woman- 
 hood and owned you love me ; 
 because you have given me the 
 fulfilment of the hope that lived 
 through all the desolate years 
 that some day the sweet lips 
 would tell me so ; because you 
 18
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 have promised me that my life 
 hereafter shall not be altogether 
 divided from yours; because of 
 these things 1 hold in my heart 
 to-night the gift of happiness, 
 just as my arms have held it to 
 my heart to-day. 
 
 You are not afraid of your love 
 for me, are you, sweetheart? 
 or of mine for you ? I some- 
 times think that, after all, know- 
 ing only one life as we do and 
 nothing of that beyond, the heart 
 should know its own happiness 
 
 19
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 as well as its own bitterness, 
 and that love, when we find it, 
 should be the God who puts all 
 things under Him and for whom 
 the world is well lost. If you 
 are mine and I am yours, and 
 we are all in all to each other, 
 then what matters anything else ? 
 Love is enough ! It is a terribly 
 fascinating thought, and there is 
 some sense of strong rebellion, 
 too, at fate that makes you mine 
 and yet not wholly mine. And 
 yet you have not misjudged the
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 man to whom you said : *' I love 
 you." I would rather go away 
 from out your sight and never 
 see you any more than make you 
 live ever to regret that you 
 told me this. Such is the love 
 I bear for you to-night, my dar- 
 ling, with the touch of your 
 hands still throbbing through 
 my pulses, and the perfume of 
 your lips still on my own. 
 
 I think I understand what it 
 has cost you to tell me all you 
 have. 1 believe I do realize what
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 it is for a woman like you to 
 love. And if 1 have ever misun- 
 derstood you and failed to com- 
 prehend I shall try never to do 
 so any more. And I want you 
 always to treat me just as your 
 mood prompts you to treat me, 
 fondly or laughingly or mock- 
 ingly or tenderly, as best suits 
 you. 1 don't want you ever to 
 be sorry in your life for one sin- 
 gle moment that you have given 
 your heart into my keeping. 
 For me — 1 hardly realize it
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 yet ; I am stunned, almost, with 
 the joy of it, and "all my nights 
 are trances and all my days are 
 dreams." And yet, in spite of 
 all the pain and grieving and the 
 bitterness of the old years, some- 
 how the hope that has now been 
 realized never, 1 think, altogether 
 left me; and let me say to you 
 with truth that the realization 
 was sweeter than the hope that 
 filled a thousand dreams v/ith 
 flame. I deny that anticipation 
 is better than fruition. I have
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 felt more rapture crowded into 
 one brief hour this day than in 
 ten years of hopes and dreams. 
 There is more of joy for me in 
 the soft pressure of your little 
 hands — there is more of heaven 
 in the fragrance of your mouth 
 than any heaven that hope can 
 ever bring. 
 
 I am writing you straight from 
 my heart of hearts, and what I 
 write I feel. Let us have no 
 mental reservations. We are 
 not boy and girl any more, but 
 24
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 man and woman. If the love 
 you bear for me should ever 
 wane — if mine should ever weary 
 you, if any other should com.e 
 between us, I want you to be 
 honest and tell me so. Even if 
 it wrench my heart out by the 
 roots, I do not want to live one 
 hour in a fool's paradise. And, 
 sweetheart — my dear, dear love 
 — will you not grant the request 
 that I again make to you to de- 
 stroy my letters? I know the 
 fear is remote, but so much of 
 a?
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 peace might depend for you 
 on their non-existence, that 
 even now I feel it is almost 
 cowardly for me to write them. 
 Will you not do this, my dar- 
 ling, for my sake and because I 
 ask you to ? You will not mis- 
 understand this request. You 
 will know that the heart that 
 honors while it loves you holds 
 your safety and happiness above 
 everything else on earth. 
 
 Good-night. It seems to me 
 I could write you thus forever. 
 26
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 Do not write to me unless and 
 until you want to. I shall un- 
 derstand. I shall see you, I trust, 
 in three days. Until then my 
 life will be a dream, and that 
 dream the sweetest woman in all 
 this world. 
 
 Lawrence.
 
 Ill 
 
 Neiv York, Fehruary 8, i8pp. 
 
 Madge : 
 
 Do you know that you have 
 written me the most beautiful 
 letter I ever received in my life, 
 and the most effective ? 
 
 I am not ashamed to tell you, 
 my beloved, that part of it 1 have 
 read through tears. It has made 
 me happy, it has wrung my 
 heart, it has appealed to all that 
 29
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 is best and noblest in me, it has 
 made me understand you even 
 more tlian 1 ever did before, and 
 I thought I knew you to your 
 heart's sweet core, my love ! 
 What has this letter done for 
 me ? It has touched my ears 
 and thrilled my heart with the 
 sweetest music God gives man 
 to hear on earth — the melody of 
 a true woman's love crying for 
 tenderness and protection against 
 itself. 
 
 1 cannot conceive of any cir- 
 30
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 cumstance or any situation or 
 any catastrophe that would take 
 one iota from the reverence and 
 respect I render to your woman- 
 hood along with a passion so 
 deep and thrilling that I myself 
 do not understand or compre- 
 hend it. I knov/ that 1 am the 
 one love of your life, as you are 
 the only real one of mine. 
 
 I believe that over and beyond 
 
 the bonds and limitations that 
 
 men have made — and properly 
 
 made, I admit — there is nothing 
 
 3i
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 that love like ours does not sanc- 
 tify and glorify, and I could take 
 you in my arms, all mine and 
 wholly mine, even to the feet of 
 God, and say, "I bring her 
 whose sacrifice to love has left 
 her in my eyes and heart as sin- 
 less as your angels, and no pos- 
 sible heaven where she is not 
 could ever be anything but hell 
 for me." 
 
 I should always feel the same 
 for you forever, forever. I know 
 it. 
 
 32
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 It has been a part of my life to 
 give you my homage. It will be 
 until my life shall end, and yet 
 to-night, after this letter of yours, 
 I recognize, perhaps for the first 
 time entirely, our fate, and I bow 
 to it. 
 
 Never, so help me God — and 
 I write these words, as I read 
 yours, through tears, and with 
 an entire realization of what they 
 mean — never will I cause you any 
 anxiety on this subject knowing- 
 ly or willingly again. I make the 
 33
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 renunciation to-night of the hope 
 I had hardly realized I cherished, 
 and, whether pain accompanies 
 that renunciation or not, I am not 
 unhappy, because I know that 
 you are mine in spirit, if not in 
 body; because I believe that you 
 will be changeless, and because, 
 whether or not on earth, you are 
 ever mine — mine only. I shall 
 know the white life still is white. 
 I mean this, sweetheart. It is 
 true I am writing under the 
 powerful influence of your tender 
 34
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 and beautiful letter. But I have 
 thought it out besides, and taken 
 this stand after hours and hours 
 of striving between passion and 
 the desire to do right. 
 
 You have said I wanted 
 strength. It must be mine to 
 show you that this is not true. I 
 have it, and I pledge it to you this 
 night, with a great sob in my 
 heart. 
 
 Oh, v/ell, Madge, why should 
 the sob be there ? Am I not dec- 
 orated in a way that kings are 
 35
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 not? Have I not what I have 
 longed for all my life, and should 
 I not be content ? 
 
 1 am happy in your love, dear 
 — oh ! immeasurably happy — and 
 then it is best, no doubt, that 
 something should be held back 
 from us, lest earth grow too 
 much like heaven and we wor- 
 ship love more than God. 
 
 You have asked me whether, 
 
 if all our heart's desires could 
 
 have been fulfilled I could have 
 
 been faithful to you all my life, 
 
 36
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 as long as you lived, however 
 much divided from you? Yes, 
 sweetheart, I could. I call on 
 your faith in my truth and my 
 love for you to believe and to 
 know that. That is all 1 can say 
 now. 
 
 The test will never be made — 
 at least, until I can prove my 
 constancy to the world as well as 
 to you — and that time, perhaps, 
 may never come. For the pres- 
 ent I have put some "days and 
 dreams out of mind, days that 
 37
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 are over, dreams that are done.'' 
 But i shall love you all my life. 
 You know it. There is no poem 
 that I ever read, no poem ever 
 written, and no song ever sung, 
 that could describe my feeling 
 for you, as I know it. Perhaps 
 some day I may write that song. 
 Have I answered your ques- 
 tions, darling.^ I have tried, and 
 from an honest and loyal heart. 
 Your letter is so sweet and 
 tender and passionately beautiful. 
 It is the very supremest expres- 
 38
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 sion of a true love and a true 
 womanhood I ever read. 
 
 Good-night, heart's dearest; 
 good-night, my life's one love. I 
 never loved you more than in 
 this hour. 
 
 Lawrence.
 
 IV 
 
 New York, March 4, i8()g. 
 
 Darling: 
 
 I waited for the message, but 
 it did not come, and I feel that I 
 cannot sleep to-night until I have 
 spoken to you across the silence 
 — to tell you how more and more 
 each hour and day you fill my 
 life. Does God give love like 
 this of mine for you to many 
 men, I wonder? Words seem 
 4'
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 SO weak, so poor, to tell how 
 every word and gesture, how 
 every passionate and rapturous 
 memory of you, burns and throbs 
 and beats through my heart un- 
 til I feel I must go mad for long- 
 ing and for joy. Who am I, to 
 be loved by a woman like you 
 and with such love as you have 
 given me ? You have bestowed 
 upon my life a new purpose — 
 you have made it a thousand 
 times worth living — you have 
 made me to believe and know 
 42
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 that human life can reach a point 
 of happiness no possible heaven 
 could ever excel. That is what 
 your love is to me, sweetheart. 
 I swear it to you — and knowing 
 what it means to me, I think 
 you should never regret a single 
 memory of it. I do not dare to 
 think or hope it has made you 
 one thousandth part as happy as 
 it has made me. An English 
 poet says : 
 
 Love can but last with us here, at 
 
 this height, 
 For a day and a night. 
 
 43
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 But for me, I know it can last 
 until the final day of life and 
 the ''death-hour rounding it." 
 But for you — ah, God! there is 
 the fear that will creep in and 
 chill. Am I to lose you after 1 
 have won you ? Is the old agony 
 to be lived over again ? Have I 
 climbed thus near to the heaven 
 of my dreams only to see the 
 gates shut on me at the last? 
 Will you not teach me some 
 way, sweetheart, that 1 may 
 make you mine forever? For 
 44
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 you are mine now, "sweet eyes, 
 sweet mouth,- sweet cheeks, 
 sweet throat, sweet hair — each 
 singly wooed and won." Will 
 the day dawn in which I shall 
 know that they are mine no 
 more ? If it ever does, I hope to 
 God I may not live to see its sun- 
 set. Do you remember what I 
 told you was my dream last 
 night — "how mad and bad and 
 glad it was, but then, how it was 
 sweet?'' Dear sweetheart, I am 
 only a very human man, desper- 
 45
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 ately in love with you, who 
 does not hold his life at a pin's 
 fee compared with your happi- 
 ness. You know better than I 
 what brings you happiness or 
 can bring it. If I can know 
 surely what your own heart 
 wishes, then, at whatever cost 
 or renunciation, so help me God 
 I will try to bring it to you, 
 But for a little while, sweetheart, 
 at least, let me dream — let me 
 dream that you are away with 
 me, 'Most in the night and the 
 light of the sea," drifting toward 
 46
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 that magic land where all our 
 hopes and dreams come true. 
 And as Kipling says : 
 
 It's God knows what we should find, dear 
 
 lass, 
 And it's God knows what we should do. 
 
 But I think the voyage would 
 be the sunniest a ship ever sailed, 
 and the land we found would be 
 fair. 
 
 Oh, what, after all, is life, and 
 how should we use it ? Is not 
 one hour of love worth years of 
 the dead, death-pale duty, the 
 dull, passionless existence that 
 47
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 SO many human hearts wear out 
 against their mortal bans ? It is 
 not every heart to whom is given 
 the pov/er of supreme love and 
 supreme pain and supreme joy. 
 Shall those who fmd it lose it 
 because — they know not why? 
 And yet, how can one argue of 
 these things ? They cannot be 
 reasoned out. Love is like re- 
 ligion — a thing of faith only and 
 impulse. And so all my argu- 
 ment and reasoning are set at 
 naught, and drowned in the 
 48
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 memory of a last " embrace in 
 which two white arms held me 
 fast." Oh, thank God for mem- 
 ory now. I used to hate it, and 
 think the best boon time could 
 bring would be forgetfulness. 
 But now — no, a thousand times 
 no! 
 
 I fear you will think this an 
 incoherent letter. I am writing 
 only because my heart is suffocat- 
 ing with its passion. Good-night. 
 I am going away in the ship of 
 dreams. Do you know who is 
 49
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 going with me ? Listen while I 
 whisper down through your 
 breast into your heart. One is 
 going on that ship who will put 
 white arms around my throat 
 and say : 
 
 Ask me no more, my fate and thine are 
 
 sealed; 
 
 I strove against the tide and all in vain. 
 
 Let the great river take me to tlie main. 
 
 No more, dear love — for at a touch I 
 
 yield — 
 
 y4sk me no more. 
 
 Lawrence. 
 
 50
 
 New Yorkf May j, i8pp. 
 
 Madge: 
 
 I have your letter and I do not 
 know whether you mean what 
 you say in it or not. 
 
 You know I love you, if you 
 know or believe anything. You 
 love me, too, very dearly — you 
 have told me this, and God 
 knows you have proved it. But 
 you appear to have no faith in 
 51
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 me. I do not understand how 
 love and fiiith can be separated. 
 If I have tried to make you un- 
 derstand anything, it has been 
 that I am happiest when with 
 you, that the sight of your face 
 is my heaven — and yet you prac- 
 tically charge me in your letter 
 with neglect. 
 
 I do not think you are too ex- 
 acting. Love is always exact- 
 ing, but it is generous and con- 
 siderate and forgiving, too. A 
 heart that loves — with faith — 
 52
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 would know and tell itself: " He 
 is not here — I am not in his 
 arms, through no lack of long- 
 ing on his part, but because he is 
 held away from me by a force he 
 cannot guide. And instead of 
 reproaching him, my love for 
 him grows deeper and stronger 
 every hour." 
 
 It seems to me this is the way 
 a loving heart would speak, but 
 perhaps I do not know. Oh, 
 please don't quarrel with me, but 
 love me and believe in me, and
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 understand that you are the one 
 thing on earth that I love with 
 all my heart and soul. 
 
 Lawrence.
 
 VI 
 
 New York, September /o, i8pp. 
 
 Madge: 
 
 Here are the answers to the 
 questions you ask, and which I 
 am asked to give you before the 
 past is hermetically sealed. 
 
 Yes, I was unfaithful to you at 
 Narragansett. I remember, when 
 I bade you good-bye in July, that 
 you said you had a premonition 
 that it was forever ; but I laughed 
 
 55
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 at the idea. I remember that I 
 did avoid the answer to your 
 questions, in my letters — I 
 thought I would tell you all about 
 it when I saw you, and I went 
 to Newport intending and ex- 
 pecting to do so. But I tell you 
 now that I do not recollect any 
 questions or allusions to the mat- 
 ter made by you while I was 
 there. Nor do I remember, save 
 so vaguely that I cannot venture 
 to recall it here, what, "when I 
 bade you good-bye, I made you 
 56
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 swear to." I received the letter 
 saying you would return on a cer- 
 tain day. My mail was delayed 
 — I was nervous. Newport had 
 made me think that you would 
 not really care much whether 
 I came or not, and I dreaded the 
 heartache and misery of explana- 
 tions. Not brave, perhaps, but 
 God's truth. 
 
 Yes, I am to marry a very dear 
 and lovely girl, and I love her. 
 She is rich, so I have heard since 
 my engagement, but I knew 
 
 57
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 nothing of this when I asked her 
 to marry me. I do not suppose 
 the world at large will believe 
 this, but I do not care what the 
 world believes. I want to try 
 and be a better man, to catch 
 some years of peace and content- 
 ment, and to be, as nearly as I 
 can, worthy of her. 
 
 I shall be glad to come to see 
 you sometimes if you will let 
 me. 
 
 In all the sorrow and all the 
 happiness the past has held for 
 58
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 me, I have never harbored a bit- 
 ter thought or spoken a bitter 
 word of you. 
 
 Lawrence.
 
 VII 
 
 New York, September, /8pp. 
 
 Madge: 
 
 I have read carefully what you 
 sent me, a copy of ali my letters^ 
 as you asked me to do. 
 
 I did not lie to you then. I 
 believed it to be true, nor did 1 
 believe any change would come. 
 I do not lie to you now. She is 
 a dear and lovely girl, and she is 
 rich. She has said she would 
 61
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 marry me, and I want to try to 
 be worthy of her. 
 
 I have sufifered. My heart has 
 been wrung — beyond what any 
 words of mine can tell you — at 
 causing you pain. God knows 
 this is true. 
 
 She fixed the date for the 20th 
 of October, after she left New 
 York. My foreknowledge was 
 the understanding only that the 
 engagement was not to be a long 
 one. She has told her family 
 and friends, as I have mine. 
 62
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 Everybody who knows her or 
 me practically knows the date 
 that has been set. She has asked 
 all her bridesmaids, and the cos- 
 tumes have been ordered for that 
 time. 
 
 How can I change the date ? 
 Yes, 1 know it was the 20th of 
 last October that I told you 1 
 loved you. I beg of you, for 
 the sake of one who, I think, 
 never gave anyone pain know- 
 ingly in her life, to withdraw 
 your request, for the sake of my 
 63
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 sister, whom you know and es- 
 teem, for the sake of my dead 
 mother, whom you used to love. 
 
 I know there is no service that 
 you would ever accept from me 
 now, if I could render it, but one 
 who has gone down on his 
 knees and asked God's forgive- 
 ness in agony and tears makes 
 this appeal to you. I ask you to 
 try and think more gently of me. 
 
 I am going to try with all my 
 endeavor to be a better man, to 
 act as one who is trying his best 
 64
 
 OF A LIAR 
 
 hereafter to do right. Will you 
 not help me ? I ask you, I appeal 
 to you, if not for my sake, for 
 the sake of a girl who should not 
 suffer for my faults, not to ask 
 this of me. 
 
 Just forget your own suffering, 
 your own humiliation. And re- 
 member, her wealth can advance 
 me politically. My ambition is 
 dearer to me than any woman. 
 Grant my request, and send me 
 a telegram saying, *'I do !" 
 
 And in this last letter, and to 
 65
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 my dying day, I ask God's mercy 
 and tenderness and protection 
 for you. 
 
 Lawrence Goddard.
 
 VIII 
 
 IVasbingtoJi, D. C, 
 
 September /8, /8pp. 
 
 Lawrence Goddard, Esq. : 
 
 Your letter of September i6th 
 to poor misguided Madge came to 
 me by mistake. It requires much 
 talent and much more feeling to 
 break off an attachment amiably 
 than to begin it. Hence I re- 
 turn to you the letter meant for 
 her, so you can despatch itforth- 
 67
 
 THE LOVE LETTERS 
 
 with. Such ingenuity of ex- 
 pression should not be relegated 
 to the waste paper basket. As 
 for myself, I find, after careful 
 investigation, that my bank ac- 
 count is not sufficiently large to 
 maintain myself and your politi- 
 cal ambitions. So we will "call 
 it off." Good-bye. 
 
 Kitty Sherman.
 
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