BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [16 NOV. 1911]
BRACERS 17346. Morrell papers #259, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.

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Thursday mg.1^, 2

My Darling Love

Two dear letters came from you this morning — they were a joy. It is all very interesting about Burnley — I should like very much to see the place some day. No, I didn’t think you were unhappy — I couldn’t quite take seriously your wish to be like Alys. — It is great fun your account of the Ball. I do feel how lost you must be trying to think of philanthropies. It is the sort of thing I should be hopeless at.

Yesterday I called on my men — we began a pleasant talk about mathcs. but some dull ladies came in and I fled, as I had proofs and my lecture to prepare. I got the proofs done about 1.15 in time for the 1.40 post, but I should have got them done sooner if I hadn’t slept an hour in my chair. My ferocious German (who is an Austrian I find), came and argued at me after my lecture. He is armour-plated against all assaults of reasoning — it is really rather a waste of time talking with him. Neville came in later in the evening, and talked about the delights of original work, which he is new to. He said in a sort of questioning way “Surely there can’t be any other life to compare to it?” He is a very simple person, with a cockney accent and a silly manner, but great in just one direction.

I have had a furious letter from Arthur Russell, and a letter from his father taking his side. But I can’t sit still and hear him saying she is an “absolutely impossible woman” — if she were a common prostitute it would be indefensible. I have written back explaining in words of one syllable what decent people do in such cases — evidently no one has ever told him, and his instinct doesn’t help him. I have no doubt it is a mercy it is off, but that is another matter. Evidently she and his step-mother engaged in a pitched battle and she was worsted. Anybody who desired his welfare would begin by trying to emancipate him from his step-mother.

Don’t worry about my sleep — I sleep quite enough, only some nights I don’t have time for much sleep, but then I make up next night. I am terribly busy. Today I have fresh proofs, with the request for an Index, which I must make; I have to make a list of Errata for the 2nd Vol. of the big book; I have a lecture; this morning I am going to see Mrs Whitehead; this afternoon politeness demands that I should go to an At Home given by Whitehead’s sister; this evening I have Layton to dinner and then my evening. The result is I feel affairé, which I hate. It has the same sort of effect on me that worry and bad conscience have on you — it drives my feelings inwards and makes them dumb. But tomorrow I shall have got over it. I am longing to be with you again. Somehow it seems an age since Monday. Goodbye Darling — I must go — North has come to remind me. Your letters are such a joy Dearest.

Your
B

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  [document] Document 000259. Proofread against a colour scan of the original.

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  [envelope] A circled “259”. The Lady Ottoline Morrell | 44 Bedford Square | W.C. Pmk: CAMBRIDGE | 11.45 AM | NO 16 | 1