BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [1 JUNE 1911]
BRACERS 17213. ALS. Morrell papers #133, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.

Worcester. 
<letterhead>
Trinity College,
Cambridge.1^, 2
Sat. aftn.

My Darling

I have been to the Cathedral (not worth seeing), enjoyed the river, which is beautiful, and eaten my luncheon. Now I am waiting for the train in which North is coming. I have finished the tragedy of Nan,3 which is very impressive — it seems to me really good. I am very glad to have read it.

I had a most conversational journey here — at Reading I found myself with a family of Americans who had much to say — none of it interesting — and at Oxford, where they got out, they were succeeded by an elementary schoolteacher and a young man who got in after the train had started. A porter, quite needlessly, tried to stop him, so I got hold of the other end of him and we had a tug of war in which I won. This broke the ice. The schoolteacher talked endlessly, and told her whole history — there was a refrain of teeth: all her upper teeth except four were gone and she was hoping soon to have false ones in their place. She hoped to get an engagement to teach French Canadians, in which case she would turn Roman Catholic. I ventured a mild protest, but she said Roman Catholics were most virtuous people — the only thing that made her pause was that they play cards on Sundays. So I gave up any farther attempt to argue the point. I have never met a more incessant talker.

Dearest I don’t miss you yet at all, because I still feel you so vividly with me. It is not till I have had to turn my thoughts away for a time and you have grown less present that I really miss you. Our talks this time were so wonderful — At first I used to feel it difficult to get you to tell me about yourself, and that I must work to make you unreserved — but now I feel that it will all come as it will and I am quite content to let everything take its time. I never had any wish except that you should know I was really interested, which at first you found it hard to believe, didn’t you?

I hope the oculist will do your eyes good, and I could wish the eyes were connected with the headaches, but I hardly suppose they are. You really must try to rest as much as you possibly can this summer — for my sake as much as for yours. It is hard to be good about going to bed when I am with you. But that’s no reason for not begging you to be good when I am not with you, is it?

I will finish this at Malvern and post it tomorrow morning.

The Wyche Post going directly. The place seems nice and certainly has a view. I find North has to go on the 14th (Friday) so I should be free Friday afternoon and night, but I imagine that is no use? He has been doing a round of plays and dances, I told him I should have difficulty in keeping up the standard of gaiety, particularly as I had left my book of jokes at home. He seems very well and cheerful. I found a large and serious post waiting for me here. Nothing of the slightest interest, only business.

Now I must post this. Goodbye my Dearest Heart, my Life, my Joy. I love you love you love you.

Your
B.

Don’t forget to tell me what the oculist says.

• 1

  [document] Document 000133. Proofread against a colour scan of the original.

• 2

  [envelope] ??.

• 3

  tragedy of Nan John Masefield, The Tragedy of Nan and Other Plays (London: G. Richards, 1910).