Feb 6th 1908 South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
My dearest Kathleen,
I am beginning to wonder when I shall get a chance of seeing you again except out hunting, which isn’t quite the same thing as sitting out a dance. I wish we were going to have another Junction Dance, for I should know better where to take you to and should not leave those specially designed sitting-out places on the stairs to the others, like I did last time–but I didn’t know.
I hope you don’t regret the other night [i. e. Tuesday, February 4th, 1908 at the Ladies’ Ball at St. Edward’s Hall, Stow-on-the-Wold]. I have dreadful doubts sometimes that perhaps I took you by surprise, but I simply had to tell you–and, Kathleen, you were so nice about it. I don’t think I have ever felt quite so happy or so proud in my life, for I must say I felt very superior when I went back to dance with other people to think that I was engaged to the best of them–for we are engaged now, aren’t we? I didn’t dare to think what would have happened if it had gone the other way, for nothing interests me at all now that is not connected with you somehow and all my thoughts for the future always have you somewhere in the foreground and have had for a very long time.
I think you were rather glad of Francie’s presence all the time paperchasing yesterday but you needn’t avoid me for I will not say things that make you feel uncomfortable until you have persuaded me that you don’t mind them, for despite what you say about men being shy I think you are rather glad of having some girl friend pretty handy when you would otherwise be alone with me.
I don’t know if you take any of your friends into your confidence. If you did we might possibly meet at tea at their houses sometimes and I might get a lift nearly back to Kitebrook–but the days are getting so horribly long that some eagle eye would surely catch us every time. You see, I only have about six more weeks which means about twelve hunts with luck and I really can’t be satisfied with that. I am afraid I have given you a very bad opinion of Canada but when I get the opportunity I will tell you lots that you would like and you need not be afraid that I shall be so mean as to give you a false impression of the nice part. I am more likely to exaggerate its defects for fear of doing the former. If you love me as I do you, and I really do love you, Kathleen, we are bound to be happy. This is a well-worn saying but none the less true.
I suppose this would be called a love-letter, the first I have ever written. I am wondering if it will bring an answer.
Ever yr loving,
Robin
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February 7th /08 KITEBROOK,
MORETON-IN-MARSH.
My dear Robin,
Thank you for your letter and I want to tell you how very, very grateful I was to you for not trying to say anything more to me on Wednesday [i. e. paperchasing with Francie], for I can’t realise things a bit yet and I felt I wanted to think what it all meant. Shall you be hunting tomorrow, I wonder? I have been envying you people all day–it has felt such a grand hunting day.
I want you to tell me all about Canada someday. I seem to know so little and, oh Robin, how very very little we know each other really, don’t you think?
I hope you are none the worse for your fall over the wire. Francie and I both thought we should have to carry you home.
Kathleen
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February 11th /08 KITEBROOK,
MORETON-IN-MARSH.
My dear Robin,
I am so dreadfully disappointed to miss today but as Geoff has probably told you the wretched “Pedlar” has an injured leg, and I, a bad head so we have decided to stay at home. Perhaps I ran too hard yesterday!!
I am writing this because I am a little afraid you will say horrid things again–that I wish to avoid you and you know that isn’t true. I couldn’t have let you say what you did the other night, could I, if I hadn’t cared very very much; and the next day, well, I had to put my little world together again because it’s all so different now. Will you understand that, I wonder? I can’t write what I mean or say it. I’m just an utter idiot as you will discover someday, if you haven’t already.
I have secured the pony for Friday and am going to lunch at Teylerford[?]. Marjorie is going to write to you, I think, and ask you to go there in the afternoon.
Norah told me a terrific secret yesterday. I didn’t mean to tell anyone, but I must–they are going to give a dance in their new room, probably next Thursday week. Isn’t it splendid of them?
I hope you are having a good day today. I do so wish I were there too.
I am going to play hockey on Thursday.
Yrs ever,
Kathleen
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Feb 11th 1908. South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
My dearest Kathleen,
I came back from hunting as blue as I could be tonight for I had a very dull day and then I found your letter waiting for me. You really are dear to write me such a nice one and you can’t think what pleasure you have given me. So many people came late to the meet today that I kept hoping to find you amongst some waiting detachment but Geoff told me after a bit that he was going to ride the “Pedlar” tomorrow so I knew it was hopeless and in the end I had a long ride back from beyond Sutton all alone, so no wonder I was blue. Do you know that nowadays I lose all enthusiasm for hunting when you are not out and that when you are out I just long for a good run and the mere fact of knowing that you are somewhere in the crowd (probably a mile and a half in front) makes all the difference.
I wish now that I hadn’t told you that you wouldn’t like Canada for lately I have spent many an hour thinking about it and I am so sure you would. It isn’t the Canada you read about, all snow and frost for five months of the year and scorching sun all the summer with flat prairies all round and not another house in sight. The part I shall take you to (and I shall have to one of these days) is all mountains and valleys and lakes where you get the finest weather in the world, quite a number of English people, some of whom I like very much and we don’t kill ourselves with over-work but can usually find time to get a little fun out of life.
In the Autumn I usually have to take long rides up to the hills to look for cattle and I have so longed to have you with me, for it is so fine up there and I always think you would so like it. I think I could make you happy, Kathleen, and I should try so hard but I am afraid you would have to give up hunting and most other things which cost money, which is rather hard luck. I have never had any great ambition to be rich until now so that I could give you all you want. Personally, if I have your love and you, I shall have something worth working for and Canada is such a promising country no one can tell what is going to happen next and we might make a lucky strike and come home and have a great old time in a few years and even if we didn’t I think you would still be happy. I don’t think you will find me one to bewail my lot whatever its like for I hate an incessant grumbler and I honestly believe that the less one has, the less one wants, so we oughtn’t to want much.
I seem to be asking a great deal from you and have very little to offer in return except love and I have great faith in that, one sees more of it in my part of the world where husbands and wives make much more of each other than they do in England where as far as I can make out they are always afraid of being left together and getting bored. I expect if they both had more work to do they would have less chance of getting bored.
I got an invite to Mrs. Prichard’s dance tonight. What a glorious idea and how I hope to enjoy myself.
Ever yr loving,
Robin.
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Feb 12th 1908. South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
My dearest Kathleen,
I was so disappointed not to find you again today. I hope you are all right again now. I never thought of asking in my letter, which was rather rude.
I saw Marjorie at the meet. She said you had written to her and told her you were not going to hunt but I sincerely hope you haven’t got the flue or anything dreadful.
I expect Geoff has told you that he is going to bring his dog to Broadwell tomorrow and hunt hares, so that disposes of my chance of getting a lift to Little Barrow tomorrow afternoon. If you are not very well, I am sure it would be better for you to watch a little hare coursing than to play a violent game of hockey.
I wonder what you have been doing all day. We had quite a good day but as I told you last night, it isn’t the same thing at all when you are not there.
I think I was a little disappointed not to find a letter when I came back. I don’t know when you posted your letter yesterday but it got here at 2 o’clock and I was rather hoping to find another one this afternoon, which was presumptious, I suppose.
I hope you are well again now.
With lots of love,
Ever yr. Robin.
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February 13th /08 KITEBROOK,
MORETON-IN-MARSH.
My dear Robin,
I was awfully disappointed at missing yesterday, but I didn’t feel quite up to it, however I am quite absolutely well again today thank you, it was nice of you to write and inquire.
I think I must play hockey this afternoon–there are generally so few people that each one makes a good deal of difference–but perhaps I shall arrive before the coursing is over. I suppose I shall have to go to Broadwell to pick up Geoff, or what’s left of him.
Yrs ever,
Kathleen
Do you know my first Heythrop Ball was four years ago last night?
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February 15th /08 KITEBROOK,
MORETON-IN-MARSH.
Dearest Robin,
I think Auntie is writing to you tonight to ask you to come on Tuesday, as Miss Wiggin goes sometime that day. She won’t let me tell anyone yet–not even Geoff. We have had that talk, you see, but I don’t know that it has done much good. I am sure you can’t help liking each other when you know each other a little. You simply must, it means so much to me. you know. She has been so very, very good to me for all these years and she wants to like you too if you didn’t wish to take me away to the other end of the world. I suppose we’ll meet on Monday.
Yrs,
Kathleen
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Feb 15th 1908. South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
My dearest Kathleen,
I did not find a letter waiting for me, so perhaps your Aunt is waiting until she has had another talk with you, but now the ice is broken I don’t suppose you will mind so much. I certainly didn’t envy you your job last night and would most gladly have done it for you, but I think it was much better that you should do it for yourself and I expect your Aunt preferred it that way.
I don’t think I ever thanked you for giving up your day’s hunting yesterday. I really did enjoy my afternoon and would dearly like another but that will have to wait until the powers that be decide what is to be done with us. I don’t think they will make us wait very long and I expect the fortune-teller was right when she said that the decision was in your hands. I was looking at my photographs tonight, wondering what you would think of them and I came to the conclusion that they were the most dreary looking things I ever saw. A camera seems to miss all the good part and a lot of my photographs were taken in the winter with snow lying around in patches which does not look very cheerful. I think if you saw them before you saw the original you might order your trap and race back to Kitebrook and tell your Aunt that the complaint was quite cured and that would never do atall.
I suppose I shall see you in the distance on Monday, there is never much riding home to be done from a Monday meet I’m afraid.
With heaps of love, Kathleen.
Ever yrs
Robin.
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Feb 16th 1908. South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
My dearest Kathleen,
I got two letters from Kitebrook this morning, one a very charming one and the other promising well. I am hoping great things of Tuesday, the chief one being that your Aunt should like me and there I am afraid we don’t start fair. I am quite ready to like your Aunt for her goodness to you and she naturally does not like the idea of my taking you so far away but I think that after we have seen a bit more of each other I shall be able to convince her that I can make you happy and if I can do that, Kathleen, I don’t think it matters where or how we live. I should also like to persuade her that our engagement should be announced, for we are not likely to change now so there is no object in keeping it quiet.
I wonder if it was much of a shock to you the other night driving back from the Grisewoods when I told you I only had £250 a year. It isn’t very much and doesn’t go very far and perhaps I didn’t realize that to you it sounded absurdly little. It means that you give up such a lot that you have been accustomed to and that is the argument that your Aunt will use with me but then I think you have lots of pluck and between us we can surmount a lot of obstacles that your Aunt might think insurpassable.
You mustn’t think that I accept all that you give up as a matter of course. I know what a lot I am asking of you and I feel more thankful every day that it was my good fortune to fall in love with you and still better fortune to win your love.
I wonder if you will understand what I mean. It is rather hard to explain, but when four years ago I first used to dance with you I never saw you anywhere else and I didn’t hunt and at dances we used to dance rather than talk and in those days I could think of nothing but you, not knowing anything about you. I was just instinctively in love with you and when I came back again two years ago it was just the same but we saw more of each other because I hunted. It was meeting you outside Bourton Wood when I was bicycling after the hounds and you were riding that made me decide to hunt. I remember that you went off across the fields where I could not follow and I would have hunted then whatever I had to pay for a horse, and this year I came back and thought you didn’t care. But everything is altered now.
I wonder if you know that you are the whole world to me now and that for a man to have a girl to love him entirely changes his whole life. I wish all this had happened at the Hunt Ball in December instead of now when I have such a short time before I go back. Kathleen, I will be so good to you, for if I can make you happy that is all I want. I am all alone here today and I expect it is because I want you so badly that I am writing now.
Yrs as always
Robin
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Feb 18th 1908. South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
My darling girl,
Why do these things happen? One can’t be angry with your Aunt, for after all the responsibility rests with her and it is only because she wants you to be happy that she does not approve of me.
I did not try very hard to tell her how much I cared for you. I thought she would take that for granted but I don’t think she did. But you know, don’t you?
I wish your Aunt wouldn’t trust to my honour about the dance on Thursday. I was so looking forward to it, but I didn’t want to quarrel with her as would certainly have been the case if I had said I would have as many dances as I could get. [On Thursday, February 20, 1908, at Donnington Manor, Robin danced with Kathleen six times, all waltzes. She had six other partners that evening, none of whom danced with her more than three times.]
After I have seen your Uncle I shall know exactly where we stand and then, my love, I shall see as much of you as is possible in the short time I have left.
They can’t do us much harm now, can they, and if they had known before I had a chance of asking you to marry me I think that would have stopped everything.
Kathleen, I love you and that, after all, is the gist of this letter and all the others I write to you. I wish your Aunt thought so.
Yrs as always
Robin
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Feb. 19th /08 KITEBROOK,
MORETON-IN-MARSH.
Dearest Robin,
I don’t know why I am writing because there really isn’t anything to say, is there? We can only wait a little and hope and I really do believe things always come out right in the end if one only believes hard enough that they are going to. I am afraid you must have had a worse time yesterday than I even imagined till after you had gone when my turn came. I am so sorry for all the hateful things she must have said. Robin, am I really worth it to you? Did you ever think you would be met like this and insulted, because it comes to that, doesn’t it? Though I suppose she thinks it’s for my sake.
I am sorry too about the dance because you will have to keep your word and it will be hard for us both but we will show her she can trust us.
I mustn’t write any more or I shall miss the post. There is no hockey today so I am going to see Marjorie.
Ever yrs,
Kathleen
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Feb 19th 1908. South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
Dearest Kathleen,
Thanks for your letter. I was rather hoping to find one when I got back. I don’t much mind what your Aunt says to me but I really shall be angry if she is nasty to you. I never doubt for a minute but that we shall get our own way in the end. The worst they can do is to make us wait till you are 25. Even then I am better off than I should have been if I had gone back to Canada without knowing you cared, for now I shall always have that thought to keep me company.
But I shall have lots to say before I give in to waiting till then, unless you think you would rather, for I know it must be rather an ordeal for you to decide for yourself.
I knew if I tied myself down to any one day in Oxford I should be sorry for it and I am for I should have liked to call on the Grisewoods today to thank them for housing my bicycle and ask them to do so once more.
Yrs as always,
Robin.
I know someone who looks very nice in pink.
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March 11th /08 KITEBROOK,
MORETON-IN-MARSH.
My dear Robin,
I am afraid tea and scandal with Marjorie is “off” for to-day as I hear she will be out. I hope you will get this in time to stop you laboring down with those weighty photographs, unless of course you would like to leave them for me to study tomorrow, as I am going to lunch there on the way to Bledington and since I shall have the Grisewoods as an escort mine Aunt thinks she will be safer at home!
Yrs ever,
Kathleen
Marjorie says I can ask anyone I like to tea except you!
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March 11th 1908. South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
My dearest Kathleen,
I got your letter safely enough this afternoon and I see no help for it but to take the album to the Grisewood’s this afternoon so that you can see them at your leisure tomorrow. They may help to entertain all these people that you are to be allowed to ask to tea. I should rather like to have shown them to you myself but as they are all written under you will gather more or less what they are meant to be. You say nothing about Saturday in your letter which was the alternative if today didn’t suit but I suppose if you are there tomorrow you are hardly likely to go again on Saturday so I suppose I shall hunt. I went to the meet this morning but did not see them find. They went to Bradwell[?] Grove. I rather wish I had hunted myself now.
I only get you to myself on two more afternoons now, Sunday and Wednesday, so it is rather disappointing to miss this afternoon. The other days when I shall see you we shall be hunting or beagling and I prefer to say good night to you on your own doorstep rather than in the hunting field. There is a difference somehow. Perhaps I had better stop.
Yrs always,
Robin.
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March 11th 1908 South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
Dear Kathleen,
I am afraid I shall shock Dickens by writing twice in one day but Daph has just called in on her way back from hunting and says Miss Hewitt has told her that there is no beagling tomorrow.
I hope you will still go to the Grisewoods for lunch and perhaps I may be allowed to come over in the afternoon and then I shall be able to show you the photographs myself as I wanted to. I left them there this afternoon according to instructions and punctured my bicycle coming back so had to walk but as there is no beagling my trouble will not be in vain.
If you are not going to the Grisewoods or don’t want me there please write by your first post and I shall get the letter by 2 o’clock.
Yrs as always,
Robin.
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March 19th 1908. South Hill Cottage,
Stow-on-the-Wold.
My darling Girl,
I must write you one letter even though there is nothing fresh to say. You can have no idea how much this afternoon meant to me. It was quite true what I told you, that all the most perfect moments I have had this time have been due to you, and sometimes I have felt happier than I ever believed possible. The best thing I ever did was to fall in love with you and I hope that time will show that the best thing you ever did was to respond to it.
I told you this afternoon that you appealed to all that is best in me, and, Kathleen, that was true and I will live up to it.
You dear little girl, I wouldn’t have you different to what you are in any single thing. I love you, dear, you must never doubt that. Such as I am, I belong entirely and absolutely to you and I am not likely to forget it. Sweetheart I shall not write again like this but I am just beginning to realize that I shall not see you again for what now seems a long time and I am not looking forward to the interval.
A letter addressed to me, passenger, S. S. Empress of Ireland, Liverpool and posted on Thursday evening will, I hope, get to me before I sail and I do so want one.
If this letter expresses half what I feel I shall think I am a good letter writer.
God bless you, my love.
Yrs always,
Robin.
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March 19th /08 KITEBROOK,
MORETON-IN-MARSH.
Dearest Robin,
I am writing as I promised though I really don’t know what there is to say.
I suppose you are just about leaving the Cottage now, and I still can’t make myself believe that you won’t be the first person I’ll see at the meet tomorrow, or that Sunday and all the Sundays after will have to be got through without you.
I wonder if I shall get that photograph this afternoon. I do hope so. It seems so long to wait while it follows you out to Kelowna and then comes back again. I shan’t know till I get back from hockey and as that will probably be too late for the post I am writing this before I go.
I hope you will enjoy the “Merry Widow” tonight. It made me just want to get up and dance too and everyone in the theatre wagged its head with the music.
You will send me your first essay soon, won’t you? It might have for its subject “Trans-Atlantic Travelling”. I am reading a book now about the land part of the journey but it wastes such a lot of time describing swamps in Manitoba, which don’t interest me a bit.
Oh Robin, it doesn’t seem possible that I shan’t see you again for a whole year. Good-bye and all my wishes for a good journey.
Your loving,
Kathleen