Our plans are final. We arrive in Boston the morning of May 19. At last you & father will meet my lovely Sophie, and I think I will ask her to marry me.
You will be surprised to see how happy we are together. She brings out the very best in me. You know how you said when I visited at Christmas that I have become too serious, even severe? Sophie has changed all that. She is so full of joy & wonder, & I am hopeful that these virtues somewhat rub off on me. If only you could see us together when we stroll together arm in arm, laughing & talking of all things. You would never guess that I could be so carefree.
Even before we arrive, I want you to have some sense of her. The photograph is a poor representation, as she is not best shown in a stodgy atmosphere. Hers is an uncontrived nature, a beauty in her eyes & laugh, a kind of light that shines out of her very being.
In ways she reminds me of Olivia Stephen. Do you remember her? Maid Becky’s niece. She came to stay one summer when I was a boy. Sophie has her same kind of quiet humor, as if she is secretly enjoying everything about the world, but is too humble & shy to tell you all she knows. Also there is something of Aunt Jane’s eccentricity, the way Aunt Jane will pick up a book even as someone is having a conversation with her & begin to read it, falling silent. At times Sophie is so intent on her own thoughts or observations that she does not notice anything else around her, & she can be forgetful. She is always misplacing her field glasses, notebooks, or gloves.
I suspect the only reason Sophie is not married yet is because her head is elsewhere?—?occupied with kestrels & ruby-crowned kinglets (she will have me learn the names of these birds yet). There have been other suitors, I am sure, but they probably mistook her distraction for aloofness. She would not have paid me any mind either, if I hadn’t kept returning to her schoolhouse & pestering her. In truth, I won her over not by good looks or distinction, but rather dogged determination.
You are right of course about our age difference; it is significant. Yet I think you will see what I mean when you meet her in person. She is no silly girl. She is witty & kind & settled in some way that I have not yet achieved myself.
I have been thinking that we could have the wedding in Boston & maybe honeymoon at the Nantasket cottage, if you would not mind. Of course I want you & Father to meet her first. I am sure you will love her as I do.
Please don’t tell Father of my plans. He will get it in his mind that she does not come from good enough family or that she does not suit me in some way, even before he has had the chance to meet her. I want him to be taken by surprise by her beauty & intelligence. Without even trying, she will win him over.
Do you think she might have the blue guest room? I think it will suit her well, as it is just down the hall from the library & is cooler than the other rooms in this hot weather.
Your affectionate son,
Allen
Part Four
U.S. Army Tin Cup.
Model 1874 Army Tin Cup.
Allen Forrester Collection.
Indian War–era Army tin cup of regulation issue, measuring 4 inches in diameter and 4? inches high. Block tin with soldered seams. Handle stamped with letters “US” and fastened to cup with iron rivets. Some scattered rust and pitting, but otherwise little sign of aging.
Dear Walt,
I am so sorry to hear that you were in the hospital. I hope you’re continuing to feel better.
I also wanted to write to you about the last check you sent?—?it is incredibly generous. Before I accept it, though, I want to make sure you’re not sending too much. It really is a lot of money. Are you sure you’re keeping enough to live comfortably? Do you have any family to leave it to? Don’t get the wrong idea?—?I can definitely put it to use here at the museum, and I’m not trying to second-guess your financial decisions. But there is no reason to rush. Our budget is set for this fiscal year, and I’m going ahead with the transcribing. Just think about it, and let me know if you are sure. I’ll wait to hear from you before I deposit the check into the museum account.