Kathleen — October 20, 1908

October 20, 1908                                                                                   39 Elm Park Gardens

                                                                                                             London SW

My dearest Robin,

I am so sorry to hear all the plaster has had to come off again.  [This reference and some others below are to Robin–October 4, 1908.]  It’s most annoying for you having to turn out when you had only just settled in, though if you have had the nice weather we have the summer kitchen wouldn’t be so chilly as might be expected at this time of year.  I hope there will be no more disasters of the kind.  I think it’s really most lucky that man knocked a hole in the ceiling now, for I shouldn’t at all have appreciated it falling on me later on.  We have just come back from “The Lyons Mail”, a terrible blood and thunder piece.  I don’t think we either of us liked it much.  I hardly dare go to bed for fear of hearing revolver shots and dying shrieking in my dreams!  I am so glad you are starting the lawn, it all sounds so nice, but you are a dreadfully busy person!  Do you ever have any spare time?

I hope the Batchelors’ Ball will be a success.  I suppose it’s coming off about now.  I should just love to come and dance the “Merry Widow” with you.  I feel horribly jealous of the girls who dance “my” dances!  I always did love dancing with you Robin, years ago; and nearly three years ago, when I was called to order, I said I only danced with you a lot because you were such a good dancer.  I am not quite sure that was all the reason.  Last night directly we arrived here a band came and played “Venus on Earth” on the door-step; and tomorrow two little old men will come round with a harp and fiddle and play “The Choristers” and “Lucea” and the other nice ones.  I believe they do every week since I once asked them to play those ages ago.  

I seem to be writing very much of the dark ages tonight, don’t I?  We will try and come up to date.  Mr. Hewitt is to be married on Thursday at St George’s, Hanover Square.  If I hadn’t been going to a matinée I would have gone to the wedding, much as I hate them!  (Weddings, I mean.)  We went to the “Ideal Home” exhibition this afternoon and saw many new and wonderful things in the way of boot polishes, carpet sweepers, electric cooking stoves, and such like.  By the way, there was some excellent stuff for cleaning windows and other glass things.  Shall I send you a small tin with which to clean the glasses of your photo-frames?  Yes, I did notice there were such things as apparently indelible marks on glass when I came to wash glass dishes while leading the simple life!  Well, I suppose I must answer that other question and confess to the crime.  Was it a crime?  It was very silly anyway and I never dreamed of that indelible mark or that you could ever know!!  I am glad you like the photograph.  [This reference and some others below are to Robin–September 28, 1908.]  I couldn’t make up my mind if you would as only two other people do, Aunt Bo and Margaret Barnes.  

I am sorry pride had a fall over the tennis!

Your ideal camping spots sound quite delightful so long as one didn’t have to fish.  The only time I ever tried it bored me to death.

The Prichards come up to London tomorrow for one night and on Thursday afternoon Norah is going with us to see “What Every Woman Knows”.  I am quite curious to see what every woman does know.  It is supposed to be the best piece in London.

We go home on Monday and then to start hunting!  I do wish you would be hunting too this winter.

I hope the photographs will be good but you’ll send them anyway, won’t you, for I want to compare them with the house as it was before all your improvements.  I hear the colors are green and cream.  I don’t believe you ever told me that!  They sound very pretty.  

Exhaustion seems to be overcoming the dread of revolvers, so I will get me to my couch before I fall asleep with my head in the ink-pot.

Ever your loving



Kathleen’s Thread

Robin’s Thread