BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, 9 OCT. 1911
BRACERS 17296. ALS. Morrell papers #213A, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.

<letterhead>
Trinity College,
Cambridge.1
Sunday night or rather Monday mg
Oct. 9. ’11

My Darling

It is late and I ought to go to bed but I had so little time to write to you today, and tomorrow I may have equally little, as we may take all day over fellowship election. Whitehead was very enthusiastic about my Aristn. address, which I was glad of. I am much more anxious to do good work than I used to be, on your account. He thought none of my hearers would understand it, but if they don’t it will be their fault. His good opinion cheered me very much.

Supper at the Mirrlees’s was pleasant, though Mrs M. was ill and didn’t appear. Goldie was there and North — otherwise only the family. Hope M. was very clever, chiefly on literature.

Since I got back I have embodied some suggestions of Whitehead’s as to my paper, including the addition of some pages.

I find it a comfort to think of you again in the civilized world — that is to say in places I know — for whether I have been in Meran or not, I have certainly forgotten it. I am sorry Meran was such a disappointment, and I fear you won’t be rested when you get home. I do long for you to be back, and I long to know all that has been happening to you during this time. I feel you have been unhappy. It is hardly more than a fortnight now till we meet, I hope. You will remember that I go to Camberley on the 21st and must pass through London on the 23rd.

I am glad my letters interest you. They often seem to me dull. But it is a comfort to be writing to you — it is always the happiest time of my day, except the brief moment when your letters come.

The man2 I had to write to today wrote to me last February (or thereabouts) saying my writing interested him, but when he lost his wife he had found no comfort possible without a future life, and he didn’t understand that I could really offer any. I told him I couldn’t, except courage and going on with one’s work — at best I think that is what I said.

Now I must go to bed. Dearest, I can’t tell you how I am longing for you, and longing to know all your thoughts and feelings again. You bring me joy and life, your kiss seems to fill me with strength. I long to kiss your lips and your dear beautiful eyes — I can hardly bear to think of the joy of it. Goodnight my Life —

Monday No letter from you by 1st post. I shall hope to find one at luncheon time. No time to write now.

B.

• 1

  [document] Document 000213A. Proofread against a colour scan of the original.

• 2

  The man George Wheatley.