Thursday Eve.
Sept. 4, 1924

Dear Walter:

Your letter came this afternoon and – well, I can’t tell you how much I appreciated those things you said. When I wrote you about the prospects of losing my position, I didn’t know it was going to bring such a reply. I certainly didn’t do it with that purpose in mind, and I sincerely hope you will know that I didn’t. I believe you know me better than to think I would do anything like that, don’t you? I hope so. In fact if you thought I was that kind of a girl, I don’t believe you would have said what you did.

September 4, 1924

Walter, I don’t know what to say. I wish you were here right now so I could tell you just how I feel, and really, so I could know just how I feel. I would give most anything to get to talk with you tonight. So many, many times I think of lots of things I would like to say to you, but if you were to appear suddenly, I might not be able to say a word of it.

I will say, though, that I have admired you from the very moment I met you at the breakfast table at Reagan Wells, and have been admiring you more ever since. Not one time have you lowered yourself in my estimation, but instead you have gone higher. I have had confidence in you from the very start and now I have confidence enough to feel I shall never have reason to lose confidence in you. Guess I’ll have to confess that I like you mighty well. I like you better and admire you more than any other young man with whom I have ever gone. I know that seems to be saying a great deal, but it is true. Furthermore, I have given you more encouragement than I ever have anyone else (with the one exception that you know). Several times, after writing you a letter in which I revealed my feelings more than I thought I should, I have come very near tearing the letter to pieces – in fact, I did do it one time. I have been afraid so many, many times that you would think I was too easy to get acquainted with and that I gave everyone the encouragement that I gave you, but it isn’t true. It’s just because I admired you, liked you, enjoyed your letters so much, and felt like, as you said, we had so many things in common.

When I get to thinking of the short time that we were together and our brief acquaintance, I feel foolish, but it seemed the most natural thing in the world for us to understand each other so well. Are you sure you care for me so much? You see you haven’t really been with me much, and do you suppose you would change your mind if you were with me again?

I can’t say that I love you, because I don’t know, but I do know that I am nearer loving you than I am anyone else. I wish you could be here so we could be together a great deal, and then we could know how we felt. Yes, I realize the sacredness of love, and am so glad you regard it the same way. It is a wonderful thing, and you may rest assured that I am not going to treat it lightly. I have thought about it very, very seriously, and I am going to continue to do so. The things you said in your letter are sacred to me, and you don’t know how deeply I appreciate them. Yes indeed, I will “keep them in mind.” I can’t help it. Maybe when I am with you more I will know whether or not I love you.

I had the most pleasant surprise a few evenings ago. Claudelle and I went up to Mr. and Mrs. Parman’s, and, while they were talking of the visit they expect to make to Tenn. in October, Mr. Parman stated that he had written Mr. Bishopp, asking him if you could come to Uvalde to take up his work during his absence. I am afraid I didn’t succeed very well in hiding my joy over the possibility of your being here during that time. I didn’t intend writing you anything about it, because I thought I would let you mention it to me first, but you didn’t say a word about it in your letter today. Are you going to accept? I would be so glad if you would – that is, of course, if you thought it best. We would have a good chance to know each other then. I am so anxious to know whether or not you are coming.

I haven’t found out yet whether I am going to be re-appointed next year or not. I fully expected to talk to Mr. Shirley last Saturday, but he was not in town. However, I think I will know soon. I may have to call on you for that recommendation after all – you have seen me work so many times, I suppose you are in a position to sing my praises as Deputy Tax Collector, aren’t you?

It is mighty nice of you to go to so much trouble to get that picture framed, and I surely do appreciate it.

It is after eleven o’clock, so I must get my “beauty sleep.”

Sincerely,
Ina