Ma, Thede and I went down and looked at the Bushnell place.
Concluded to take it. Went to Cleveland on P. M. train. Considerable snow last
night and yesterday. Pleasant overhead but bad underneath. Almost concluded not
to go out today on account of feeling so miserably weak and nervous. Went
immediately to Mr. Cobb's. Helen came to the door. I fairly shook. Oh, could I
see Fannie. I went in. Helen brought me a letter from Fannie. Soon F. came. The
letter told her sorrow at the trouble, reviewed our friendship, told her doubt
and how she had hid it and smothered it and not allowed herself to think she
hadn't true love for me. She said “With my child-love, I loved you Luman. Why I
do not now, I do not know.” Again, “I never would admit that I did not love
you. I can not say now that I do not.” Helen came. She pitied both of us. ’Twas
a sad misfortune, but it was probably for our good. She felt from her
conversation with F. and questions that she did not love me as she should. She
thought we had better part friends and await the will of God. F. said once, “Oh
it seems as though I could throw my arms around your neck and take it all back.”
Helen was very kind to me and wished me to write to her. How sad the necessity of
such a course. F. had been crying. She undoubtedly sympathizes with me in my
sore trial. She prayed and hoped it would be different some day. If the change
did come, she would fly to me. Her sympathy, if that it is, is deep. I can not
realize that she does not love me. How can I have been mistaken these years — since
she was seventeen. I can forgive all, for she suffered herself to please me.
How strange our parting was — solemn, but as of old. Oh it all seems but a mere
dream to me. Can it be reality? It seems cruel, but a wise God will make it a
blessing, I hope. I pray God that he will sustain and bless us and bring us
together here below, if he can consistently, if not, grant us both a rich
inheritance in Heaven. This meeting and parting, can I ever forget it? No,
never. Can it be that we have parted to be mere friends forever? It can not
seem so to me. It always has seemed to me during these years that we were fated
to be and dwell together, bearing each the other's burdens and each other's
joys, most of all happy in each other's love. Time will disclose all of its
secrets and eternity, all till then remaining mysterious. I'll await the result
as trustfully and patiently as possible. God's will, not ours be done. I must
use every exertion not to allow this to ruin or seriously injure me. It will
not do for me to think much of the matter.
Went home on the night freight. Home after 10. Showed Ma my
letter and told her the result of interview.
SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman
Harris Tenney, p. 109-10
