
I hope the summer has left you tolerably well at least, your occasional postal cards
have been a comfort. We have been having a most delightful time all to-gether. The
chance of an advertisement brought us, family, horses, servants, and baby into this
remote corner of Wales & set us down in the old house of a reduced country squire.
It rained for a week after we came, but we lit fires & unpacked our three
volumed novels and tried to pretend that we were enjoying it. Then fortunately it
cleared up and we began driving & playing tennis, I went fishing with our
vicar's son and soon the charm of the hills, the
country lanes and the air made us
very well contented with out lot. A good many of our neighbours (anyone within 12
miles is a neighbour) have called on us & have turned out to be very pleasant
people, though their intellectual horizon is a little limited perhaps.
To think of us you must imagine a spur of a healthy mountain covered with fine old
trees, a winding carriage drive through trees coming to an open space & finally ending under
the eaves of a low, many-gabled old house. Behind there is an old garden with high
walls in the form of a square which are covered with peach and cherry trees growing
like vines over them.
I try to study in the mornings, the afternoons I give to shooting, fishing or tennis.
Only I find that afternoons of that kind have a great tendency to
swallow up the mornings. Mariechen and Frank Costelloe & I
however have been reading one of Sophocles' plays to-gether. Just now the Costelloes
are off in Scotland on visit.
We are just off to
a tennis party at
the vicar's, so good bye for the present. The paper you send Mary came to hand O.K. many thanks.
When will "Autumn Boughs" be out?
