Middlebury Sept. 3, 1826
The morning that you left Middlebury, Dear Philip, was one that will not soon be forgotten by me. In addition to the pang of parting from one, I so dearly loved, was the reflection that I had offended you. I knew I had given you no cause for offence unless it was in going to the ball, and I assure you nothing would have induced me to have gone, had I not supposed that you certainly and perhaps your sisters would be there. I looked often at the door the forepart of the evening, thinking every one that came in would be you, and my friend if you ever knew what it was to be bitterly disappointed, you will know my feelings at the time. I left the ball – soon. And was passing to the dressing- room, when I saw you on the stairs, and for a moment I was happy, but after you came up, your treatment was such as to make me if possible, more unhappy than before. I asked you if you were going in the morning, and I think you answered, yes! I then said, I shall see you again before you go, you did not answer me but passed immediately to the next room. I saw you come to the door twice, and seeing me in the opposite room you went back again. I never knew before, Philip, what it was to be treated unkindly by you, and I felt it: I returned home soon after, and I sat upon the steps waiting for Frances Bradbury for she appeared so happy I did not speak to her when I came. It was indeed a lovely night, and that place where we had so often been together ==== but one object to have made my happiness complete. In the morning I thought you would certainly call for your Atheneum. But morning came and passed off until nearly twelve when I see you leaving town, with only the reflection left me, that the last words you spoke to me were in anger. But I will forget it now, and forgive you I did, long before I received your letter, doubt your intentions were good. We will now let that unfortunate Commencement night be forgotten….