BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, 23 JUNE 1911
BRACERS 17207. ALS. Morrell papers #127, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.

<letterhead>
Trinity College,
Cambridge.1^, 2
23. June. 1911

My Dearest Dearest

You will see by the enclosed that old Mr. Dakyns is dead suddenly. He is a great loss — he had the quality of universal love, which is the greatest of all qualities. I don’t know what his daughter will do now — perhaps she and Arthur will live together.

It is a comfort to think of your getting away from dusty London — I begin to breathe freely again when the time comes for you to go. — I will come Thursday as early as you can have me — better not Wed. as I have my Comee. at 5.30, and the Whiteheads want me to dinner. — It makes a great difference to me when you are in the country — partly that it worries me when you tire yourself out, partly that I get so much more of you when you are in the country — you exist more — your letters tell more, and your thoughts, which London drives into their holes, put their heads up again and give one hopes of coaxing them quite out. And I do most immensely wish to have as much as possible of our serious mental life in common, and that is quite impossible unless you are well and at leisure. It is very important it should be so, because in the long run thinking must absorb me a great deal, and if you share it, it will be a joy and a bond to us both — besides, I can (I hope and believe) do really valuable things for you which I couldn’t do unless I could think of you all the time in connection with them. All this sounds selfish — but it is all built on your preferring the country anyhow; also on the wish to make our love fruitful of great things. I never forget this wish — I keep it in mind until I am done with duty-writing.

I wonder why Goldie makes you shy — he is so gentle and uncritical. I don’t know what he saw in Eckhard — nor am I convinced Eckhard was the only or principal person — I don’t feel sure. Eckhard had himself a normal unhappy love-affair roughly at the same time. I think it would be disastrous to us if Eckhard were P’s secretary.

Dearest I am in London Wednesday, and if you are there I could comea if you had a spare moment — but I don’t really suggest it because it would hurry and worry you to have to rush through your business. So don’t think of it. It would only be afternoon, 2 to 5, I should be free, anyhow.

My dinner yesterday was most enjoyable. Mirrlees is tremendous fun — loud-voiced, rubicund, jolly, tremendously full of life and vigour, and all the time caring about the important things. He told endless yarns about Natal — he ran a paper there and devoted himself to showing up abuses — got endless threats of libel actions, but never one actually brought. He said he feared no one but the police, who were among those he had shown up, and who had sworn to shoot him if they ever found themselves with him in a battle. He kept us in fits of laughter the whole time — no one else got a look in. Waterlow never turned up.

Darling I have such a longing for you — such a longing for leisure together to talk and read and have all sorts of things in common. When we meet for very short times, I can’t make myself really think of anything except you. If I come to Ipsden and see you constantly it will be too wonderful. I don’t dare to let myself think of it. I do love you most absolutely, my Dearest. All my life centres in you — You needn’t worry over the time you take from my work — I know you do worry over it sometimes. But you make me so much richer and so much better in every way, that you will make me in time achieve things I should never achieve without you. I have done so much in recent years that it is right and necessary I should not produce much at present; but you can see that I should not wish to grow less worthy of you, and that that is enough motive to make me continue as useful as I can be. All things of value in thought grow gradually, and cannot be forced. But you may rely on me not to neglect the world for you — I have always conceived myself as consecrated to my work, and I could not give you a love worth your accepting if I weakened in that. But in all that your love is a strength and an inspiration. When the time is ripe, something will come out of me. And all the time and thought that goes to you helps that, so you needn’t feel you ought to urge me to put you out of my mind. The creative impulse will see to it in its own time.

Goodbye my Heart. I love you, love you, love you,

Your
B.

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