My dear Juliet
Many thanks for your last letter about a month ago. I expect you have been very glad to have plenty to occupy your mind these days. I suppose present plans are for you to return to Highgate in the autumn. I feel just now that plans for the future are quite out of place, everything is so problematical. How nice for you to be able to get a sight of the old Boo. I hear he is now almost certain to go to the Dardanelles. How very mysterious all that campaign seems. I doubt if anyone can predict at all accurately how long it will take to get through. Poor Kath doesn’t seem to be in luck at Fulham. I hope she won’t have to stay there very long. She must miss the boys very much at home, too.
Our flat is empty now and from all accounts the last tenant was a “fair terror” doing lots of damage. It’s hateful to have to let out one’s own home like that, but as things are, it’s the only sensible thing to do.
Have any holiday plans been made at home? You’ll all want some holiday in spite of the war, or rather perhaps because of the war.
My present lot here is all right, a fair amount of work though not to excess, and comfortable quarters. At times I feel my lot is too easy. But I didn’t ask for it, and at this job it’s best to follow your nose (and your orders) and not worry.
I gather that you were not so very far from the Zep: however no doubt most of you anyway are like the men in the trenches and quite philosophical as to these things. It’s the only way. I’m very glad however that at this time Mary is not in London, a quiet and uneventful home is so necessary at present. She seems to keep very well and is still at her old home.
How long ago it seems now that you used to “pop in” as Ethel says at the Manor House, and keep the piano going. How is the playing getting on?
Rouen is a delightful town, with much of interest, you’d love it I’m sure. The country round is fine too. I very much enjoy occasional rides in the woods and am getting quite a desperate horseman, pricking through the forest on my palfrey.
When do you get home this summer? They’ll want you there to help keep them bright.
Goodnight old lady, with much love.
Your affectionate brother