The Grove School
Sun July 5th 1914
My darling Mother
Thank you all so much for the flowers and sending my dress and shoes. I wear all the roses in turn so as not to get them faded and put them back into water when they begin to droop a little. Everyone says, “Why that’s another rose yet you lucky pig!” They beat the school roses hollow!
Fancy little Mother walking back from Bretforton; I am glad you stood the spell of hot weather so well.
We shall all put a black curse upon the weather if it rains on Thursday and Friday, especially as I believe there are more people coming to the Garden Party than ever before. It seems funny having another OG Day so soon, as last one had to be put off on account of illness in the school right up till the beginning of last term.
Arthur and Mary have asked me for the last weekend of the term, July 19th-21st, unless anything crops up to prevent them being able to have me.
Arthur gave me some ointment for my ankle, and I am not doing any exercise for the present; as he expressed it, I “must sit and get fat”! Something has gone wrong with the flexion, I can’t bend it up properly and the tendency is to drop the foot downwards all the time. If it hasn’t made rapid strides in ten days or a fortnight’s time I shall have to go and see him again, and he spoke of taking me to one of his surgeon friends. However, I hope it may be very much better and not need that. I should think I am careful to avoid undue strain – due strain is quite enough, thank you!
We had gallons of rain on Friday but no thunder, though I think there was a storm not far distant, for the rain was really like tropical rain.
The Lindsells’ Garden Party seems to have been a most grand spread; I suppose Gwen wasn’t there, she is still at school, isn’t she?
Please, it is July, Father! Can I have my allowance as I’m rather low in the cash line, and shall soon be reduced to writing short stories for Home Chat or such like nasty little rags!!
I expect Evesham and the district was very sorry to hear of Chamberlain’s death. Birmingham of course was frightfully sad. I am very sorry. He was one of the statesmanlike politicians who cared more for his cause than his gain – so extremely rare nowadays.
We had a grand Voluntary Aid Detachment Inspection here last Wednesday. I didn’t see much of it as I was out, but I saw all the preparations and everyone in her nurse’s uniform. A War Office man came down to inspect, he was very pleased with it. Miss Yorke is Commandant and all the mistresses belong. Miss Crump looks awfully nice as a nurse, very calm and self-possessed (as usual), a sort of Florence Nightingaley person! Miss Ramsden looks killing; she has got a face like an ancient Roman and imagine that beneath a nurse’s cap! Miss Grierson looks most professional, and as if she knew a lot about it; she is quite good I think, she is in the Operating Theatre, boss of the show next to the doctor. I got her to do my bandage up before I went out down to the flat, and while she was doing it she said, “And where are you off to today – Sydenham?” So I said I was going to see Arthur about my foot: whereupon she dropped the bandage and said “You don’t mean to say this bandage is going to be inspected by a doctor?” and when I said, “Yes, I do,” she demanded wrathfully, “Why didn’t you tell me before I began, child?” Miss Yorke has great respect for Arthur, too: he has acquired quite a little halo here, for when people asked me where I had been and I said to see my brother about my ankle, they said, “What is he, a doctor?” in quite awe-struck tones!
With much love from your affectionate daughter
Juliet E Sladden