fe, and, I have seen of late,
suffering for those you love. But, as yet, you have not doffed an
ideal. You have not bowed that brave young head of yours. You have
never yet turned your back upon the things which might have been.

As I have turned mine. I wish sometimes that you might have known me
before the happening of these things which I am to tell you. But I
wish more than all, that I might have known you. Until I came here, I
did not dream that there was such a woman in the world as you. I had
thought of women first, as a chivalrous boy thinks, later, as a
disillusioned man. But of a woman like a young and ardent soldier, on
fire to fight the winning battles of the world--of such a woman I had
never dreamed.

But this year has taught me. I have seen you pushing away from you the
things which would have charmed most women I have seen you pushing
away wealth, and love for the mere sake of loving. I have seen you
willing to work that you might hold undimmed the ideal which you had
set for your womanhood. Loving and love-worthy, you have not been
willing to receive unless you could give, give from the fulness of that
generous nature of yours. And out of that generosity, you have given
me your friendship.

And now; as I write the things which your clear eyes are to read, I am
wondering whether that friendship will be withdrawn. Will you when you
have heard of my losing battle, find anything in me that is
worthy--will there be anything saved out of the wreck of your thought
of me?

Well, here it is, and you shall judge:

I will skip the first years, except to say that my father was one of
the New York Pooles who moved South after the Civil War. My mother was
from Richmond. We were prosperous folk, with an unassailable social
position. My mother, gracious and charming, is little more than a
memory; she died when I was a child. My father married again, and died
when I was in college. There were three children by this second
marriage, and when the estate was settled, only a modest sum fell to my
share.

I had been a lonely little boy--at college I was a dreamy, idealistic
chap, with the saving grace of a love of athletics. Your
brother-in-law will tell you something of my successes on our school
team. That was my life--the day in the open, the nights among my books.

As time went on, I took prizes in oratory--there was a certain
commencement, when the school went wild about me, and I was carri