The bantering offer was made and accepted in the autumn of 1836, and in the following April Mr. Lincoln removed to Springfield.  Before this occurred, however, he was surprised to learn that Mary Owens had actually returned with her sister from Kentucky, and felt that the romantic jest had become a serious and practical question.  Their first interview dissipated some of the illusions in which each had indulged.  The three years elapsed since they first met had greatly changed her personal appearance.  She had become stout; her twenty-eight years (one year more than his) had somewhat hardened the lines of her face.  Both in figure and feature she presented a disappointing contrast to the slim and not yet totally forgotten Anne Rutledge.

On her part, it was more than likely that she did not find in him all the attractions her sister had pictured.  The speech and manners of the Illinois frontier lacked much of the chivalric attentions and flattering compliments to which the Kentucky beaux were addicted.  He was yet a diamond in the rough, and she would not immediately decide till she could better understand his character and prospects, so no formal engagement resulted.

In December, Lincoln went to his legislative duties at Vandalia, and in the following April took up his permanent abode in Springfield.  Such a separation was not favorable to rapid courtship, yet they had occasional interviews and exchanged occasional letters.  None of hers to him have been preserved, and only three of his to her.  From these it appears that they sometimes discussed their affair in a cold, hypothetical way, even down to problems of housekeeping, in the light of mere worldly prudence, much as if they were guardians arranging a mariage de convenance, rather than impulsive and ardent lovers wandering in Arcady.  Without Miss Owens’s letters it is impossible to know what she may have said to him, but in May, 1837, Lincoln wrote to her: 

“I am often thinking of what we said about your coming to live at Springfield.  I am afraid you would not be satisfied.  There is a great deal of flourishing about in carriages here, which it would be your doom to see without sharing it.  You would have to be poor, without the means of hiding your poverty.  Do you believe you could bear that patiently?  Whatever woman may cast her lot with mine, should any ever do so, it is my intention to do all in my power to make her happy and contented; and there is nothing I can imagine that would make me more unhappy than to fail in the effort.  I know I should be much happier with you than the way I am, provided I saw no signs of discontent in you.  What you have said to me may have been in the way of jest, or I may have misunderstood it.  If so, then let it be forgotten; if otherwise, I much wish you would think seriously before you decide.  What I have said I will most positively abide by, provided you wish it.  My opinion is that you had better not do it.  You have not been accustomed to hardship, and it may be more severe than you now imagine.  I know you are capable of thinking correctly on any subject, and if you deliberate maturely upon this before you decide, then I am willing to abide your decision.”