Jax. Florida
Tuesday PM.

My Dear Ina,

Your letter came today, and Dear, I am awfully sorry that you were so much concerned, and I am writing right now as you requested. I am sorry that I caused you the anxiety, but it is a pleasure to know that you care enough to be concerned over it. It really makes me feel that you do care and I love you for it, though my letter was not written for that purpose.

I have never had any desire to keep anything from you and I simply wanted you to know. The young lady and I were quite intimate during my stay in Aberdeen and I have felt very much like a brother to her, she says father too. I know that she cares for me but I can’t help but feel that it is like she would care for a brother. She has no brothers or sisters, and the mother is mighty jealous of her. The mother did not like it when I left Aberdeen and personally I didn’t care, for I didn’t feel that it was necessary for me to stay any longer. I never promised the father that I would marry his family or any member of it, though I know he was in hopes that I would care enough for the daughter to make her my wife. When I was there she did not go with anyone except myself and on one occasion the mother reminded me that I did not give her a chance. I hope she has had chances enough since I left, though I doubt if she has gone with anyone else.

October 14, 1924

When I wrote to you last the daughter told me that they were planning a trip South next summer but were waiting for an invitation. What could I do but invite them, though I doubt if they will even consider coming. You can be assured, Dear, that I have no intentions of going to Aberdeen. Should the Mother die suddenly, the girl would probably wire me and as a sense of duty I might go under those conditions. Here’s hoping that she doesn’t die. I certainly intend to see you Christmas. I am looking forward to it. It seems an awful long time since I saw you.

Must go to dinner now, but I wanted to write you a little tonight anyway.

Lots of love
Your
Walter.