BRACERS Record Detail for 17344
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"Wed. mg. My Darling Love—What a very dear letter you wrote in the train—it was such a joy to get it."
BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [15 NOV. 1911]
BRACERS 17344. Morrell papers #257, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.
My Darling Love
What a very dear letter you wrote on the train — it was such a joy to get it. Yes, we understand each other profoundly — I think we are both rather good at understanding people in general, and then in the main we care for much the same things at bottom, and in the same kind of way. But all that seems only the surface — there is something that is deeper than words — I always feel my worst actions would not surprise you, and nothing you could have done would surprise me — it is very restful to feel that —
I am tired and stupid this morning, having gone to sleep rather late and waked rather early. — Mrs Whitehead had been advising Car Cox not to go to Virginia’s, and thinks she persuaded her. She quite agreed about the undesirability of it. I shall see Mrs W. again tomorrow. Today I have pupils coming to look over essays. Tomorrow, to my intense annoyance, I have asked Layton to dinner when I meant to go to a concert and had even bought a ticket. It is a concert I particularly wanted to go to — I dare say he did too, but there is nothing to be done.
No, Cox is not my banker, it is Child. I am afraid Shoolbud will think me an imposter!
I have written to Alys asking to have my father’s desk sent here. There seemed no other way of managing.
Poor Lamb. I have every sympathy with jealousy, especially when one really is hopelessly out of it like him, and treated with impenetrable kindness. One would do anything to get to something that wasn’t kindness. Kindness to others is an endearing quality, but kindness to oneself is not. But of course he ought to see the situation and make up his mind to it and take what he can get — I think if you refused ever to let him be rude and said you would not speak to him if he was rude it might make him realize. It makes me so angry that anybody should be so ridiculously rude to you, and I get the more angry because it is so stupid. — This is my last letter to Burnley — I will write to Bedford Square tomorrow morning. Darling Love, I do love you most profoundly — and it really is the real you and not an idealized substitute. Goodbye for today, my Beloved.
Your
B.
