Letter From the Suitor

She walked into the library and was startled to find him sitting at her father’s desk, writing what appeared to be a letter.  He rose immediately to his feet when he saw her and bowed.  “Miss Hampton.”

She returned his greeting in the manner of women, her face a little flushed.  She hoped he would think it had to do with her walk.  “Mr. Read.”

He put down the quill pen, folded the sheet of paper, slipped it into an envelope and handed it to her.  “Please do me the honor of reading my letter, Miss Hampton.  I will not take up any more of your time.  I bid you farewell.”  And he was out of the room before she had even said anything.

She went to the window and looked out to see him untether his horse and then mount it.  He was off and she watched until she could see him no longer.   She looked at the envelope with her name written neatly on it, anxious to read the letter enclosed.

“I heard you come back from your walk, Miss Ellen and thought I would bring you some tea and fresh scones.”  Bessie bustled into the room, carrying a tray which she set on the table.  Ellen’s mouth watered as she smelled the freshly baked scones.  She slipped the letter into her pocket.

“Where’s everyone?” Ellen asked.

“Mr. Turner went out on business.  Mrs. Turner, Misses Grace and Mary went to visit Mrs. Blakely.  They all should be back later this afternoon.”

“When I came in a few moments ago, I was surprised to see Mr. Read here.”

“Oh yes, Miss.  He came by to see Mr. Turner.  They were in the library for a while and then Mr. Turner left for his business.  Mr.  Read stayed to finish writing a letter.”

Ellen’s fingers closed over the letter.  “Thank you, Bessie.”  She wanted to be alone to read the letter.  Bessie left, closing the door behind her.

Ellen drew a chair over to the window and sat down.  She took the letter out of her pocket.  Her heart began to pound as she removed it from the envelope and unfolded the note.

My dear Miss Hampton:

I hope that this letter finds you well and that you will not think me impertinent for having penned it.  It is by the counsel of your cousin and my dear friend, Roger Wentworth that I have resorted to writing you this letter in which I hope to express my interest in you which I must confess has been hard for me to communicate in person.  

Nothing but the noblest of sentiment would prompt me to intrude upon the notice of a young lady under such circumstances.  An interest in you has captured my heart and no effort on my part could free it.  I hope that you will have pity on me and receive me as a suitor. 

The purpose of this letter is to ask your permission to pay you friendly visits with the hope that closer ties will develop between us.  I do not request an answer in writing although if you choose to accord me one, I shall be very flattered.  I will do the honor of calling upon you on Friday evening, on which occasion I hope for a very happy outcome.  Yours with much regard,

James Read

Ellen stared at the words on the page, hardly able to believe it.  Mr. Read wanted to be her suitor.  During those times they saw each other, she never imagined that he harbored any interest in her.  He had hidden it remarkably well.

She read and re-read the letter.  Her heart was pounding again.  She got up from the chair and went over to the desk.  She sat down and taking a sheet of paper from the drawer, she took up the quill pen and wrote:

Monday Morning

Mr. Read:

Dear Sir: I read your letter.  Thank you for writing with such candor. I shall be happy to see you on Friday evening and whenever you are pleased to call on me I shall make you feel quite welcome. Truly yours,

Ellen Hampton

She slipped it into an envelope and sealed it.  She slipped out and went to the post.  Mr. Read will have his answer before Friday evening.

 

victorian woman looking out of the window

Sources:  oocitiesSusanna Ives

The Truth

“What are you doing?” she asked him, agitated.

 

“I am going to turn the pages for you,” he said.

 

She was sitting at the piano about to play something

while her aunt and her visitors were sitting in the drawing-

room having tea.  “I can manage,” she told him.

 

“Please, Helen.  I haven’t been alone with you for

days and you have been avoiding me.”

 

“Have I?” she began to play and for the next

few moments, no words were exchanged

between them.  He turned the pages, his eyes

never leaving her face.  How she managed to

concentrate with him being so near, she had

no idea.

 

The last note she struck was accompanied

by applause and compliments on her playing

and then the conversation resumed.

“You know you have been avoiding me,” he

insisted.  “Why, Helen?”

 

She looked at him in frustration.  “You know

why, Jonathan.”

 

“All I know is that we love each other and

avoiding me isn’t going to change that.”

 

“Please don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

 

“We’re not supposed to love each other.”

“But we do.  Come for a walk with me.  I

need to be alone with you.”

 

“I can’t.  I’m–I’m not feeling well.”  She

did feel a little warm.

 

“Liar” he interjected.  He reached in his

breast pocket and took out a folded

sheet of paper.  He slipped it over to

her.

 

She stared at it, not taking it up.  “What

is it?”

 

“A poem.”

 

“Another one?  Jonathan, you have to

stop writing me poems and letters.”

She had them hidden away in her

drawer and at night before she went

to bed, she read them, even though

it tortured her to do so.

 

“It captures the feelings that I want

so badly to express.  I will leave you

now.  If you change your mind, I will

be in the gazebo.  It promises to be a

beautiful night.”  He walked away.

 

She sat there for a while, staring

at the sheet of paper and then she

picked it up, her fingers trembling.

She slowly unfolded it and read

the bold letters scrawled across

the lines.  Her heart breaking as

she read the words.  She pressed

the page against her chest and

closed her eyes.

 

“Are you all right?” the sound of

her aunt’s voice jolted her and

she got up hastily from the piano,

the sheet of paper slipped from her

fingers and fell on the carpet.

 

“I have a headache,” she said, “Please

excuse me, Aunt Cora.”

 

“Wait,” her aunt called, frowning, but

Helen had left the room.  Aunt Cora stood

there for a moment, pensive and then

she bent down and picked up the paper

which Helen had dropped.  She glanced at

it and then she folded it and slipped it into her pocket.

 

The clock struck eleven.  Helen sat by the window, looking

out of the window.  It was a beautiful night.  The moon cast its

light on the courtyard below.  Was he still out there in the

gazebo or had he retired?  What was he doing?

Should she have gone for the walk?  She knew why

she didn’t dare be alone with him.  The last time they

were alone together, they almost got carried away.

She had to practically run away.  After that she

vowed never to be alone with him again.

 

A knock on the door brought her out of her

reverie.  She turned to see her aunt in the

doorway.  “Aunt Cora.” She moved away from

the window.

 

“I hope I am not disturbing you, Dear.”

Helen shook her head.  “No, you’re not.  I

couldn’t sleep.  I have been sitting at the

window watching the moon.”

 

“I have something that belongs to you.”  She

handed Helen the poem.

 

Helen blushed as she took it, feeling embarrassed.

 

Aunt Cora motioned for them to sit by

the window.  “I think it’s about time that

I told you the truth about your father,”

she said.

 

Helen was startled.  “My father?”

 

“Yes.  My brother John was not your

father, Helen.  Your real father was

a close friend of John’s.  Your mother

died in childbirth and your father

raised you.  When you were three

he died in a riding accident.  When

John learned this unfortunate news

he brought you home as you had no

other living relatives.  He raised you

as his own daughter and he adored

you.  You were his life.”

 

Helen was crying now.  “I adored

him too,” she said.  “I miss him.  There’s so

much I want to talk to him about.”

 

Aunt Cora patted her hands.  “Yes, I imagine there is.”

 

“What were my parents like?”

 

“They were very good people.  I met your

father.  He was a delightful man.  He

doted on you.”

 

There was a pregnant pause as Helen tried

to digest the news she had just received.  “So

this means that Jonathan and I aren’t cousins.”

 

Aunt Cora nodded.  “That’s right.  And that’s why

I had to tell you the truth about your background.

I had noticed the way you and my son behaved

around each other.  And seeing you together

tonight convinced me that you are in love with

each other.  So, my Dear, there’s nothing to stop

you and he from being together.”

 

“Are you going to tell him?”

 

Aunt Cora shook her head.  “I will leave you to it.”

 

“Do I still call you Aunt Cora?”

 

“Oh yes, you do.”  The older woman hugged

her tightly.  “Now, try to get some sleep.”

 

Helen smiled, “Goodnight, Aunt Cora.”

 

“Goodnight, Dear.”

 

Helen turned to look out the window.  The

truth about her parentage turned out

to be her greatest blessing.  Now she and

Jonathan were free to love each other

without feeling guilty and ashamed.  Tomorrow

she would tell him.  Tomorrow couldn’t come

soon enough.

 

Girl on piano

All God Requires

Sometime ago I saw Deuteronomy 10:12, 13 written down on a sheet of paper and decided to look the verses up.

“And now, Israel, what does the LORD your God require of you, but to fear the LORD your God, to walk in all His ways and to love Him, to serve the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to keep the commandments of the LORD and His statutes which I command you today for your good? (Deuteronomy 10:12, 13).

God who has done so much for us doesn’t require much from us at all.  All He wants is for us to have godly fear, walk in obedience to His ways, genuinely love and serve Him and keep His commandments.  This isn’t asking for much considering that it was God who sacrificed His Son to a horrible death just so we could have eternal life.  Jesus suffered the death we deserve so that we could have the life He deserved.  And all we need to do in return is reverence, obey and serve Him.  And it is important to note that we are not called to worship any god but the Creator Himself.  Verse 14 says:   “Indeed heaven and the highest heavens belong to the LORD your God, also the earth with all that is in it.” 

This is the essence of the law.  Fear, obey, love, serve the God who created you.  And once you do that loving the rest of His creation—others like you, should come easy.