BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [21 JUNE 1911]
BRACERS 17202. ALS. Morrell papers #123, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.

<letterhead>
Trinity College,
Cambridge.1 ^, 2
21st June. mg.

My Dearest Dearest

I have just had your dear letter. — Does your going to Peppard Monday make any change as to our next meeting? I have just posted a letter to my Aunt Agatha proposing myself for 27th night; 28th I have a Comee. in London. Neither of these are imperative — I could go to my aunt some other day. I am very glad P. doesn’t mind about Ipsden. I think it would be a mistake to go to a place where Henley was the station.

I have just been having a talk with Mrs Whitehead — she was not as alarming as I had thought she would be, tho’ she was rather alarmed. It appears for all Mrs W. did, and for all my comedy, Jane still believes there is somebody. Her behaviour has not been all one had a right to expect. Mrs W. has seen Roger, and finds him thoroughly friendly both to you and me, but hurt through his caring for you. So you will have to be kind to him, I think. He says the Stephens know, but not from him; that Virginiaa is the dominant one among them, and that he impressed upon her, so that she believed it, that she must avoid even the slightest joke or gossip; the argument which he thought impressed her was that it might prevent my doing any more work. He seems to have repeated to them and Mrs W., as his sentiments, all that anybody could say against casual gossip. Evidently we were wrong about Vanessa; also evidently the real source of the trouble is his being hurt in his affection for you. This fits it all together, and makes it less bad. Mrs W. thinks the Smiths may still let out the truth, on the ground that they must protect innocent women wrongly suspected. Apparently Mrs Cornford has been mentioned. Also it appears they were furious at your writing to Karin — that Logan wanted to tell her the truth, but Alys stopped him. Mrs W. does not think I need absolutely cut Karin, but that I ought to be as formal as possible. But apparently from you they resent the slightest thing towards Karin.

All this is tiresome, except about Roger, which is good. For some time to come it will be necessary that I should not see even casually any woman under 50! I seem to be a most dangerous character — I don’t quite know why. — I have had a long letter from Karin begging for further help — I will send it you when I have answered it.

Last night I got home at 9 after a dinner- basket in the train — I made myself some tea and settled down to proof-correcting, but was interrupted by Geach and North.

I have written to a place near Malvern for rooms with North. If we go there I could come to Peppard on the 7th (arriving Reading 11.41) just as well as to London, if it suited you better. I shouldn’t have to leave Peppard till 5. But I expect London really suits you better. And I don’t know yet if I can get rooms at the place near Malvern.

Darling this is a dreary letter, but you know all these alarms and excursions don’t really touch me. Do you realize that our love is now more than 3 months old? It will soon be of a quite respectable antiquity. What an incredible amount has happened in these three months — the time before seems lost in a dim antiquity — I can hardly remember it. I feel as if I had always known you and always loved you, and I cannot imagine any other life. Everything in me belongs to you — all my hopes and ideals and all my strength and weakness — everything I have to give is yours. And I know I love you for things which must make me love you — there was nothing that could have been otherwise except my ever getting to know you. I was reading over some of your letters last night before going to bed — your love is so marvellous — it is too incredible that it should be given to me — and yet I can see that as you have it to give it is not strange really that you should give it to me. I cannot help thinking such love as we give each other is rare in the world, and infinitely precious — it redeems much else that makes one think ill of the world. Life is so strange with its heights and depths — I am filled with the wonder of it all. I do not wish to think it is all planned — it does not give me any impression of purpose — it seems greater, more chaotic, more full of accident and sudden beauty and sudden horror than any plan would have made it. Last night on my way to the station I saw a policeman with a prostitute, and a leering fat beast looking on turned to me with foul comments. I can’t think the Author of the Universe planned that from all eternity — and oddly I should feel the world smaller if any one mind had grasped it whole. The adventure and daring and courage would be gone from it. But now I must stop. Goodbye my Life.

I love you more and more completely and utterly. I will do great things for you — greater I hope than I have done without you. But I am in a confusion still — it will take time. Goodbye.

Your
B.

Notes

• 1

  [document] Document 000123. Proofread against a colour scan of the original.

• 2

  [envelope] ??.

Textual Notes

• a

  Virginia irg written over ane (a false start on Vanessa)