September, 1903.
Here we are in the old library and breakfast over. There
seemed an awful blank in the world as I sat down just now, and
I said to Dad "Its Dick — he must come this morning."
You don't know how my heart used to give a thump when you
and Bob came in that old door. It has been such a good
month — everybody was so friendly — and Dad was so well and
happy — but your visits were the core of it all. And our good
drives! Well we'll have
lots of drives at the Crossroads. You'll call at our cottage
every morning and I'm going to train the peacocks to run
before the trap and I'll be just like Juno.
There isn't a scrap of news. It is delightfully cool
here.
M.
