her, and, after saying that she
might perhaps be mistaken in regard to his real feelings toward her,
continued thus:

"I want in all cases to do right, and most particularly so in all cases
with women. I want at this particular time, more than anything else, to
do right with you; and if I knew it would be doing right, as I rather
suspect it would, to let you alone, I would do it. And for the purpose
of making the matter as plain as possible, I now say that you can now
drop the subject, dismiss your thoughts (if you ever had any) from me
forever, and leave this letter unanswered, without calling forth one
accusing murmur from me. And I will even go further, and say that if it
will add anything to your comfort or peace of mind to do so, it is my
sincere wish that you should. Do not understand by this that I wish to
cut your acquaintance. I mean no such thing. What I do wish is that our
further acquaintance shall depend upon yourself. If such further
acquaintance would contribute nothing to your happiness, I am sure it
would not to mine. If you feel yourself in any degree bound to me, I am
now willing to release you, provided you wish it; while, on the other
hand, I am willing and even anxious to bind you faster, if I can be
convinced that it will in any considerable degree add to your happiness.
This, indeed, is the whole question with me."

All that we know of the sequel is contained in a letter which Lincoln
wrote to his friend Mrs. Browning nearly a year later, after Miss Owens
had finally returned to Kentucky, in which, without mentioning the
lady's name, he gave a seriocomic description of what might be called a
courtship to escape matrimony. He dwells on his disappointment at her
changed appearance, and continues:

"But what could I do? I had told her sister that I would take her for
better or for worse, and I made a point of honor and conscience in all
things to stick to my word, especially if others had been induced to act
on it, which in this case I had no doubt they had; for I was now fairly
convinced that no other man on earth would have her, and hence the
conclusion that they were bent on holding me to my bargain. 'Well,'
thought I, 'I have said it, and, be the consequences what they may, it
shall not be my fault if I fail to do it....' All this while, although I
was fixed 'firm as the surge-repelling rock' in my resolution, I found I
was continually repenting the rashness which had led me to make it.
Throu