November 6, 1908 KITEBROOK,
MORETON-IN-MARSH.
My dearest Robin,
I am simply delighted with the photographs which came this morning. [This reference and most others in this letter are to Robin–October 19, 1908.] I think it’s a perfectly dear little house and I love the view of the north side. It all looks so nice and cool and airy, I should love to take a peep at the real thing. Is it all quite finished now? It sounds quite a large house from your description, at least for two people. Just think what a lot of dusting I shall have to do!
We started regular hunting on Monday with a very poor day at Heythrop. I rode the Pedlar and he seems to have lost every vestige of mouth he ever had. I was quite worn out when I got to the meet and nearly dead when I got home. On Wednesday I rode my new horse at Stow and liked him very much, but could only hold him now and then. They all seem so fresh at the beginning of the season. I expect it will wear off in a week or two. He seems to have got kicked which is rather trying, as he won’t be fit to go out for a day or two.
Marjorie and I did a duologue at a concert at Compton on Wednesday. It was a truly awful entertainment. The parson gave some very shady recitations and one of the village “stars” sang some even more shady songs and we were supposed to look amused. I am afraid we failed dismally! I have never been to a music-hall, but I should think a very second-rate one would be a joke to that performance! He means to have one every month and expects me to help each time. I wish I had the courage to tell him what I thought of him!
I hear Daphne has got a very nice horse but I have not seen it yet. I don’t think she is in the neighborhood now. Mrs. Stubbs told me they hoped to get into Lemington next week. She was playing golf at Chastleton the other day and motored me home after on her way to over-look the workmen.
I am so glad you enjoyed the Batchelors’ Ball. Your neighborhood must be more thickly populated than I imagined if you had 200 people there. Whom did you escort on that moonless walk to supper? [See Robin–October 14, 1908.] I feel horribly jealous of her, whoever she was! Stow Ball is to be on December 8th. I wish it was last year over again, except that you hardly danced anything with me there last year and I didn’t like it. [See note to Robin’s letter of February 16, 1908 in Engaged.] I suppose you will say it was all my own fault.
Maugersbury is once more fading into the distance and I hope things really are settled this time.
I hope you won the tennis tournament. Do you all owe so as to make it take longer? 30 sounds a good deal anyway.
Of course I made up my mind ages ago that it was perfectly idiotic for me to go out to your country. You knew that, didn’t you? Nearly every member of my family has tried to impress it on me; but I like being idiotic sometimes and this special form of idiocy seems to have lots to recommend it. I think I quite realise the seriousness of the step!!! (family again) and I am absolutely content, Robin. I just mean to thoroughly enjoy myself and I shall too; and if I sometimes feel a longing for the more civilised methods of the home-land, well, I dare say you will too when I cook you a chop you can’t get your teeth into!
I hope you have not met any more wasps. [See Robin–October 14, 1908.] They must be rather annoying in the night. A wasp is about the one animal which really terrifies me. I hardly dare stay in the room alone with one, much less kill it. Auntie and I made a compact years ago that if she killed all my wasps, I should expel all cats, bats, birds, or moths which might happed to stray into any part of the house which she frequents. It works very well except when the kitchen cat turns up in her bedroom in the middle of the night.
The beagles were out yesterday but I was playing hockey so could not go out with them. They actually killed a hare about three weeks ago!
I have just got “Chanson de mon Coeur” on the Pianola. It’s rather good.
We are beginning to think of getting up theatricals at Christmas but I expect they will fall through as usual.
Ever your loving
Kathleen