Cary T. Grayson to Alice Gertrude Gordon Grayson
Title
Cary T. Grayson to Alice Gertrude Gordon Grayson
Creator
Grayson, Cary T. (Cary Travers), 1878-1938
Identifier
WWP20842
Date
1915 June 28
Source
Cary T. Grayson Papers, Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library, Staunton, Virginia
Language
English
Text
Dear Gertrude
Your telegram was delivered last Friday to me (not Miss Margaret) and was very much appreciated. The note of thanks for the flowers was also received Saturday evening with a hearty welcome. I allowed Miss Edith to see the note, as I felt sure that you would not object, and the message to Miss Bones was delivered—I am safely anchored for a good rest, recreation and already on that road—though it seems at this juncture a bit narrow—that leads to broad optimism. I am going to be a philosopher.
Miss Edith and I are bound for a wonderful time while here. While “The scenery and coloring are just too grand—perfectly wonderful and exquisite,” we are enjoying it all—and not missing many incidents which we can further enjoy after our return home.
Sunday morning I took a long walk through the woods and across fields over beyond the Platt’s home, and gathered bits of information of varied character—mostly concerning this part of the country—from property owners, farm hands and chauffeurs.
In the afternoon, I visited the Winston Churchills, Platts and Shipmans. Dined at the latters and am afraid over-talked myself—but showed discretion about you—almost a complete silence. Miss Strong from New York is visiting Miss Shipman—but will not remain long enough to be a member of your party, as Miss Shipman is going away for a visit the end of this week, returning here on the 8th of July.
Miss Margaret sent word that she was ready to go riding just as I wrote the first word on this page. We returned a few mintues ago—It was a real good ride—the horses were in good form considering their long rail-road trip from Washington. Several times I find myself wishing for you on this ride.
It seems that the world—(and when we say world, we always mean the things that concern our own selves) gets out of joint easily.
We are now separated for the summer after several months of either seeing or speaking with each other daily. I depended on that more than I knew, until now. It is a queer twist in our makeup that we accept happiness as a matter of course, and never bank against the time when it slips away—We will see nothing of each other ’till fall, if your present plans go through, perhaps, not then. You are going west. You will meet many, and make new friends; the present moorings of your life will be changed, you will see things at different angles. You will have the opportunity to compare, to analyze, to balance probabilities, and—perhaps—to find the way where happiness leads. And it is well that this is so, for with a doubt in your mind, the full measure of happiness you deserve and I hope for, probably would never come to you—nor to us. For me, there is no need to apply any test!
New scenes, new friends, wide separation, are not necessary.—I know—and in the knowing I have been very happy, and, if you later on can be so sure, then the world will be never so beautiful, and life both an inspiration and a blessing.
We have talked so many times of being near each other this summer, in Cornish. Poor, human plans! But they rarely turn out the way we hope—There is one consolation, however, and that is the things that are not going right now are trifling, and my hope is, (and I hope it is yours, too,) that the one great plan of which we have talked so often, and of which I have dreamed so tenderly, may, some day work out just right—
Cary—
Monday—
Your telegram was delivered last Friday to me (not Miss Margaret) and was very much appreciated. The note of thanks for the flowers was also received Saturday evening with a hearty welcome. I allowed Miss Edith to see the note, as I felt sure that you would not object, and the message to Miss Bones was delivered—I am safely anchored for a good rest, recreation and already on that road—though it seems at this juncture a bit narrow—that leads to broad optimism. I am going to be a philosopher.
Miss Edith and I are bound for a wonderful time while here. While “The scenery and coloring are just too grand—perfectly wonderful and exquisite,” we are enjoying it all—and not missing many incidents which we can further enjoy after our return home.
Sunday morning I took a long walk through the woods and across fields over beyond the Platt’s home, and gathered bits of information of varied character—mostly concerning this part of the country—from property owners, farm hands and chauffeurs.
In the afternoon, I visited the Winston Churchills, Platts and Shipmans. Dined at the latters and am afraid over-talked myself—but showed discretion about you—almost a complete silence. Miss Strong from New York is visiting Miss Shipman—but will not remain long enough to be a member of your party, as Miss Shipman is going away for a visit the end of this week, returning here on the 8th of July.
Miss Margaret sent word that she was ready to go riding just as I wrote the first word on this page. We returned a few mintues ago—It was a real good ride—the horses were in good form considering their long rail-road trip from Washington. Several times I find myself wishing for you on this ride.
It seems that the world—(and when we say world, we always mean the things that concern our own selves) gets out of joint easily.
We are now separated for the summer after several months of either seeing or speaking with each other daily. I depended on that more than I knew, until now. It is a queer twist in our makeup that we accept happiness as a matter of course, and never bank against the time when it slips away—We will see nothing of each other ’till fall, if your present plans go through, perhaps, not then. You are going west. You will meet many, and make new friends; the present moorings of your life will be changed, you will see things at different angles. You will have the opportunity to compare, to analyze, to balance probabilities, and—perhaps—to find the way where happiness leads. And it is well that this is so, for with a doubt in your mind, the full measure of happiness you deserve and I hope for, probably would never come to you—nor to us. For me, there is no need to apply any test!
New scenes, new friends, wide separation, are not necessary.—I know—and in the knowing I have been very happy, and, if you later on can be so sure, then the world will be never so beautiful, and life both an inspiration and a blessing.
We have talked so many times of being near each other this summer, in Cornish. Poor, human plans! But they rarely turn out the way we hope—There is one consolation, however, and that is the things that are not going right now are trifling, and my hope is, (and I hope it is yours, too,) that the one great plan of which we have talked so often, and of which I have dreamed so tenderly, may, some day work out just right—
Cary—
Monday—
Original Format
Letter
To
Grayson, Alice Gertrude Gordon, 1892-1961
Files
Collection
Citation
Grayson, Cary T. (Cary Travers), 1878-1938, “Cary T. Grayson to Alice Gertrude Gordon Grayson,” 1915 June 28, WWP20842, Cary T. Grayson Papers, Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum, Staunton, Virginia.