October 29, 1908 KITEBROOK,
MORETON-IN-MARSH.
My dearest Robin,
We still seem to be sitting on the edge of a volcano! We were just patting ourselves on the back and thinking we had got everything satisfactorily settled when quite another aspect of the case was presented to us. It seems that, as we are wards in Chancery, the trustees have to get an order from the court every so many years to say how much money may be spent on the place and whose share it’s to come out of, etc. The time has now expired and we had all decided to try and get an order to go on just the same for another year; but they seem to think this will not be allowed, as it has just struck them that Reggie is paying too much as he is here such a short time and that I am not paying enough as I am here altogether. What will happen I don’t know. Visions of Maugersbury Dower House begin to loom up again! Well, I won’t bore you with any more of this. It will smooth itself down somehow.
I sallied forth to the Merrimouth on my new hunter yesterday. We met at 10:00 o’clock and did not find a fox till 1:00 and then only ran for a yard or two, so it was rather boring altogether, especially as there was a thick fog in patches and it rained most of the time.
Norah and I started home together and we could not help thinking of the last return from the Merrimouth–the intercepted wink!
After we parted I caught up Lawry and tried to discover how the world looked from her point of view. I wish she wasn’t quite so impossible, for I can’t help feeling rather sorry for her. Her mother and sister start today for the south of Spain where they are going to spend the winter and poor Lawry is left at Compton by her lonesome. She wanted to go to the Lockwoods’ as a P. G. but they would not have her. I feel if she is all by herself we might politely ask her to tea now and then, but I don’t believe I could stand it!
She told me all about the Hewitt courtship and wedding. It seems to have been quite a surprise even to them and to Miss Hewitt, who guessed nothing till “Uncle” broke the news to her!
Is there a Miss Mallam amongst the friends you were camping out with? Norah says Mabel Witts knows her.
We had a very good time in London and went to four theatres. Our last day we went to the White City to see the Colonial exhibits. A figure of the King in butter was a great feature in the Canadian part. It is no longer a white city. It has got horribly grubby and the day we went it had been raining and the whole place was a sea of mud and trippers–perfectly horrible!
Your chicken shooting sounds fine sport. I shall want to have a try at that. I dare say I shouldn’t slay the right one though, if I managed to slay one at all! [This reference and others below are to Robin–October 6, 1908.]
I am sure I never said your only use was blacking boots and carrying coals! You are quite right about the boots, I didn’t black them (I always wear brown ones); but I did have to fetch the coals. As to your hash, I haven’t the least idea how to set about it, but with a cookery book all things are possible.
I am glad that after due consideration you still think you were right in asking me to marry you. I think so too!! and everybody else shall . . . someday. It seems to have dawned on my family at last that my mind is quite seriously made up and I don’t think they will fuss any more. The only thing that seems to really worry them now is how to make a home for Reggie after the present one is broken up; but I think Reggie will settle the question for himself by spending most of his holidays abroad.
Marjorie and I are going to act a short play at a concert at Compton on Wednesday. It’s got up by Mr. Rivington and we both hate him, so we don’t want to do it. It’s rather a nuisance too, as I shall be hunting all day and shall be much too weary to act properly. I always get stiff the first few days and I have hardly ridden at all yet.
Geoff is having his mare up at Cambridge and means to hunt her, and ride her in a race next month. I don’t suppose he will do much good with her. He got a fall racing the other day but fortunately was not damaged.
Mr. Scott is adding on to his house and I believe Sir John is coming to live there. It is reported that Mr. Scott is not going to manage Stow Ball this year. I don’t know who will if he doesn’t.
I hope the plasterers are plastering better this time. I suppose they have about finished again by now.
We are going up to Chastleton to watch the golf this afternoon; rather dull but necessary, it seems, or Mrs. Richardson who provides tea will be offended.
Ever your loving
Kathleen