New Britain herald., 1926-09-21
Love Letters And HcartaChrs

I1922, people came to our house to hunt for the letters Mir. Hall had written mother. Those mother had
 written to him were scattered in torn
 bits over their dead bodies as they
 lay so carefully laid out side by side under the crabapple tree near "Lov- CTS Lane" l believe that Mr. Hall had letters from her in his study, l though mother had repeatedly beg ged him to put them elsewhere or destroy them.
 The searchers turned up the rugs In the living room of our home, l looked behind pictures on the walls, under mattresses, pillows and cush- i ions. in bureau drawers, desks and closets. They couldn't find them. A few minutes after they had gone, I walked over to the wall where moth CT used to hang her coat-and there were the letters in a crochetted bag she had made, hanging from a hook exactly as she had left them. It seemed strange that they were in such an unconcealed place, but there they were, scores of them in all. I carried them off upstairs but I could not bring myself to the point of reading them. I felt 1t would have been doing wrong to pry into Mir. Halls heart.
 After little while I grew fright ened at having them. l didn't know what I ought to do with them, or if I ought to do anything.
 Vaguely l felt l ought to give them to the officials but I couldn't. l kept wishing I could have buried them in the coffin with mother, they seemed so a part of her. I had a wild idea of going out some night to the cemetery where she lay and put ting them in the ground near her. but I was afraid of being seen.
 I hid them in my room, but couldn't get them out of my mind. l went to sleep each night worrying over them. and woke up with the thought that here was another day and still l had done nothing about the letters.
 I longed to tell someone, but there was no one to tell that I could trust. Father kept me strictly in the house, and I seldom even saw my aunts ex- cept for q passing word when other people were around. I decided to burn them, but something seemed 10 hold me back from lighting the match.
 About that time, among the many letters l got. was one from a woman who said she was a lawyer and wanted to help me and wouldn't expect payment. She said she would come out to New Brunswick from New York, and stay q while, and study the case and advise me and assist me all she could. God knows | needed help. I was so lonely and so desperate that l grasped at what seemed to promise aid and friend ship, I wrote her, and she came out,
 She stayed at the house of a news paper man and his wife, and if had had any sense at all, or any eX- perience in such matters, l might have been suspicious from .that very fact. But 1 was absolutely ignorant and too miserable to think anything out.
 At first she was very nice, talked to me kindly and seemed sympa- thetic and understanding. She even helped me in certain ways and I considered her a real friend. All too soon I found out my mis- take. I learned she was not law yer, that the name she used was not her own but merely assumed, that she was only But l am get ting ahead of my story.
 .One day I happened to say some thing about what was uppcrmost in my mind - Mothers letters. The woman nearly jumped out of her skin with eagerness. She said if I would let her take them for a few days 10 read, it would great ly help in protecting me, and my mothers memory, if the case ever came to trial.
 As I look back. I don't sec how could have been such fool, but I loaned her the letters, feeling sure 1t was the best thing to do for all our sakcs, for I wanted help and advice so desperately. ] never longed for l contidante so much as in those bitter days.
 Well, soon after that my aunt got a telephone call one day from someone who said that if she had wanted to sell the love letters" he would pay a bigger price than any body else, that he would sell 10 many papers. giving each one few Of the letters.
 My aunt thought he was mad man at first, but when he made her understand that some of the letters had actually come out in print in a newspaper she almost went crazy herself. She told him il was the first she had heard of any love letters -- and she tcle- phoncd to me wildly, asking what 1t meant.
 I rushed to her house, and to the day I die, shall never get over the agony of that hour! My mothers love letters in a newspaper, Mr. Halls heart Mothers heart - laid bare for millions to read and gloat over, cant write it. . l believe the torture of that day was almost worse than what l felt l when Mother died. I felt worse i than any criminal, worse than tho worst betraycr. And all because of | my stupidity and idiotic trust of that woman.
 We telephoned desperately, i'm plorinr her to return the letters at once She said she would Inc next day. and she did. But it was all too