“Oh, that I could live on and on into the ages that are only obscured by oblivion. But no. Face to face with a world, I must accept death as a charm to enduring existence. You must know, dearest, that I love you, have always loved you and shall always love you. As I sit and look into the fire which from great red flames has sunk to an ember glow, I liken it to your love; for in the manliness of your youthfulness you loved me with a passion that was all consuming. I bathed your soul in the divine worship and devotion such as only a pure woman can pour out on a man whom she extols above all others. In your letter there appears not one allusion to love. Is it possible that you do not love me? You who have held me so close while spasms of delight have shaken your stalwart frame, and the flame of passion has reddened your otherwise placid brow, while exclamations of joy poured forth from your lips between the spasmodic kisses which held my lips as in a vice. You, a man of equal parts, do not mention love; you may remain silent on that subject, but if you tell yourself that you do not love you _lie_, and your heart bears witness to it. “You can love; I know you can, for I can love with a wild desire to die in your arms, and I am a student of no school but your own. “Do you imagine that the cold indifference which your letter displays will have a tendency to lessen my love for you? Do not be misled, I beg of you, for you once descended from your proud station to make love to me, and I have treasured that love and it has grown into such a mountain that no chasm of indifference can ever engulf it, and remember you are his father—my child’s father. He would love you, too, for having loved me, if for no other reason, for, God bless him, he is in love with your old sweetheart. Where I go he will go. I do not love you still with the hope that as in our case at first, love begets love. “I have long since learned to live to love, and expect nothing but dreams in return. You did love me. No, you did not, or else all the world could not have torn you from me; but you cannot love another. I wish you might, for the goodness which lies within you would shine out and light a world of laggards.