William G. McAdoo to Eleanor Randolph Wilson McAdoo

I wish I had the right to begin this letter with the most beautiful word in the English language—Sweetheart—but as you haven't given it to me, I cant—So I must begin with something that does not imply possession (Alas!) but is merely descriptive and expressive of my own feelings. Sweet angel, you are so perfect, and yet you have disclosed to me only a little of your wonderful soul—Every day Eleanor more of the depth and infinite sweetness of your beautiful nature and every day I hope the more that you may think more of me—Must this always be one sided? Darling, are you going to let it be? It doesn't seem possible that a love so deep and so exalted as mine is for you can fail in time to evoke a return—This buoys me constantly and then you have been so sweet to send me the dear little note to St Louis and the telegram to Kansas City—Each was a delightful surprise, especially the latter, and came at a time when I needed them badly—For now that it is all over, I must confess that I have had an awful time with my throat and that it has been difficult to keep the pace of long sessions of the Committee, constant examinations of witnesses and the awful dinners with clouds of smoke and the inevitable speech making—I am really pleased that I did not surrender—Your solicitude was the greatest inspiration and help—I have tried to convince myself that it was not wholly humanitarian, but couldnt get up the necessary conceit to succeed!
Sweetest heart, I am simply mad to see you—I feel that I should gladly give ten years of life for an hour with you—As you so delightfully say “I have heaps to tell you.” It is rather difficult to talk on paper, isn't it, but it is a godsend to be able to do even that—I believe there are few things in life so hard to bear as the longing to see the one you love and adore—I am counting the days and the hours until I see you again—Please dont forget to save an evening for me—the first possible one after I return—I wrote you last at Chicago. I expected to write again at St. Louis but could get no chance—Now I am seizing this early hour on the car and that accounts for the pencil (which I hope you will excuse) as I cant lay my hands on the ink and I dont want anyone to know that I am awake as they would discover if I called for it—We are having most interesting sessions everywhere and the rivalry of the different cities is intense and in some respects amusing—With your delightful sense of humor (thank heaven you have a sense of humor as well as enthusiasm) you would enjoy listening to the witnesses—You know that St. Paul to MinneapolisI could swear because here I was broken in upon and have had no chance until now (4 pm) to resume. I have taken a room in the Lincoln Hotel, have locked myself in and am determined to finish my talk with you though the heavens fall!
This is going to be a fearful looking letter—part pencil and part ink and of different kinds of paper as I cant go down to the car for more of this, but I hope you will overlook everything but the contents (you know the Governor puts the accent in the last syllable—) and I shall try to do better next time—Well I must go back to Chicago and tell you about St. Paul and Minneapolis. There is a deadly rivalry between them. Their centers are only 10 miles apart and while each agree on the limits of the district to be served, each insists that it alone should be made headquarters for the Reserve Bank. As a matter of fact it doesnt make the least difference which one has the headquarters. It was great fun to press the witnesses for Reasons. None could give anything convincing. Finally one red faced man who floundered terribly under the examination said in desperation (as a reason) “Well, I was born there.” We asked if he wanted the Bank as a memorial! Then he said, as though a bright thought had come to him and with triumph “It is a democratic city.” Whereupon Secy. Houston and I both jumped on him hard for bringing politics into the discussion and he retired in utter confusion. The St. Paul delegation was tremendously disturbed by his break and I am somewhat fearful for the poor man's life if we decide (as we probably shall) against St. Paul.
We had to speak at a Banquet of the Illinois Bankers on Tuesday night the 21st. About 700 were present and we gave them some plain truths. I wish you could have heard the things I said about the Governor. Somehow I wish you could have heard my speeches on this trip. You are such an intelligent critic and I know you would tell me the truth—I should like particularly to have your view of the spirit of them. Unfortunately for my purpose they are all ex-tempore so I cant send one to you for