I say to you once more that in all this my demand upon you has not been for myself, nor wholly for my father. Let me be careful here.
This impassable gulf is fixed between us for all our lives. Neither of us may cross it. But I have been desirous to see you stand among men, where you belong. Do not ask me why I wished that--you must never ask me. I am Mrs. Alston, even as I write.
And as for you? Are you in rags as you read this? Are you cold and hungry? Are you alone, aloof, deserted, perhaps suffering, with none to comfort you? I cannot aid you. Nay, I shall punish you once more, and say that it was your desire--that you brought this on yourself--that you would have it thus, in spite of all my intervention for you.
Moreover, you shall say to yourself always: "She asked and I refused her!"
Nay, nay! I shall not be so cruel. I shall not say that at all. Let me mark that out! Because, if I write that, you will think I wish to hurt you. And, my friend, let me admit the truth--the truth I ought not to lay upon you as any secret--I could never wish to hurt you.
They say that men far away in the wilderness sometimes long for the sight of the face of a woman. See, now you have that! I look up at you! What is your impulse? I am alone with you--I am in your hands--treat me, therefore, with honor, I pray you!
You must not raise my face to yours, must not bend yours to mine. See now, measure my trust in you, Meriwether Lewis! Estimate the great confidence I hold in you as a gentleman because--do you not see?--a gentleman does not kiss the woman whom he has at a disadvantage--the woman who can never be his, who is another's. Is it not true?
Happiness is not for us. We are so far apart. I am sad. Good night, Meriwether Lewis! I, too, have your picture by me--the one you gave me years ago when I was in Virginia. And it--good night, Mr. Meriwether Lewis!
Place me apart--far from you in the room. Let my face not look at you direct. But in your heart--your hard heart of a man, intent on dreams, forgetful of all else--please, please let there linger some small memory of her who dares to write these lines--and who hopes that you never may see them!