Monday Nite.
Sept. 28, 1925.

My dearest Walter:

Your note of Friday Nite came this afternoon, and, even though it was short, as you say, it “hit the spot.” The quality was there just the same, even though there wasn’t as great quantity as there sometimes is. Just one word from you each day means lots to me, whether you have any special news or not. The old story “old but ever new” is always sweet. Love’s story never grows old.

September 28, 1925 (Ina)

Really, I am going to work tomorrow. It is only for one day I think. The District Clerk has asked me to help him. Court is in session, and I suppose he is so busy that his deputy is unable to handle it all. It has been so long since I worked that it will be a peculiar sensation I’m sure. It has been six months since I worked regularly, and I have not for one moment had that longing for the “thrill” of public work. Of course, if I were not engaged to be married soon, I would find a position and really enjoy it, but, under the circumstances, I don’t care anything about it. You needn’t ever worry about my regretting my choosing married life to that of the life of a business woman because, even though I do enjoy my office work when I am doing it, I prefer a home and home life with someone I love worlds more than I do the other.

We are going to be happy, Dear, because I love you above everyone, and I believe you feel the same way. Yes, indeed, I do love you.

Always, your
Ina.