BLACKWELL FAMILY Kitty Blackwell Newcombe, Jessie[*June 3/98*] 1, CHEYNE WALK CHELSEA, S. W. Friday 3. 6. 98 My dear Kitty We have just heard our pony has become lame, and we think we must make enquiry if any equally attractive pony is seeking a home. Is that that belonged to Mr. Rowland [Evert?] quite disposed of? It sounded so perfect; and we were sorry we had one whenyou told us of it. I suppose there is no chance of its being had again? Should you mind enquiring. Papa, the energetic book-worm, is at Hastings; &I have just been to see Mother off – to join him at High Wickham. How glad I am I have not got to go. A lady jumped in the train very late as the train was about to start: it looked very like your dear Baby's wife. I am sorry to tell you the dear Baby himself would not say good morning the other day. I am so sorry he can be so proud; but he must have been distressed at my hugely philanthropic ways. I was carrying a very large cardboard box of dressmaking dolls – they were those of my club girls who were going to give them to Lady Jersey; – she, Lady Margaret Villiers, & her aunt were the next day coming to my club. The children enjoyed themselves very much; but Ialways think of those dolls (for the Childrens' Happy Evenings) as having cost me W. T. Harvey's disapproval! I think I shall send you a photo of them: they were such nice dolls. It is very delightful being a school manager. My mind is full of educational matters, truant schools, public events, nice parents neglectful parents, and all the pros and cons of a school. I am even going to do some class teaching (Standard (VI) next week to give a mistress a rest. A dog knocked Bertha off her bicycle, and injured her knee. Bicycles are very dangerous; but I still continue to ride my American one, daily. Yrs. with love and [hate?] J. N. NewcombeVI) ninth week to give a mistress a rest. A dog knocked Bertha off her bicycle, & injured her knee Bicycles are very dangerous; but I still continue to ride my American one, daily. Yrs with love & haste J.N. [Newcombe]Dormans East Grinstead (till 24th 21. Dec 94. Dear Kitty Accept with my Xmas wishes some words of A. Lang - a few of whi. I am very fond of. I have cut the pages in order to mark criticisms that I think good. I inscribe your name 'Catherine' because you said that was your name, once upon a time, when you do not please. This is a fancy - I am going to call you by that name - thro' many a mournful year. Affectionately yrs. Jessie NewcombeNewcombeMental heart-felt friendship that I can carry on with C.P. - & beyond_ or little beyond (except where I slightly tempted) that, he never felt anything warmer. What makes you write in the strain of yesterday - (I liked "tho' both very foolish" so much & so did Mabel) Is it because you have found out that the fault is all on my side? You may talk to C.P. as much as you like [but] if he wishes it - but never write about me. I won't have him blamed tho. he is not to blame, tho' you might say so if you knew ______. Well no, I honour him. I am sorry my rich friend G. & pretty is to be married on the 5th. My castles in the air of mortal making you see didn't work.P.S. you may know me as a sentimental friend but you can call me morbid after reading this letter. We had such strawberries for dinner: green- grocers are the only good people in Chelsea. Now you think me a goose. All right - I submit. June 27. Dear Kitty, You will say I have no heart. Oh yes I have but it is really of the higher reasoning shape & not mere physical [heart drawing]! It is this 3. 1, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, S.W. I rubbed in the sulphur ointment sometimes on the [dais?] instead of poor Leo! "how characteristic of me is Fools rush in where -- &c" You will say so too! I am giving you a long chat - you know it is [not] wise of me to cheer you, [but] I want you to be happy again. You must tell me frankly all the bad things C.P. can say of me -- he will never know I know them. It will relieve you & it won't hurt me. Don't take away my nice confidential friend from me - I really won't do the boy any harm. I really wont Kitty; so please don't interfere - let our friendship if it isto, go on calmly and judiciously just as Mabel wishes. Trust her and me, and I assure you all shall be straight again. Leastways if you haven't this evening been giving C.P. the unnecessary advice you have applied to me. More stamps please Kitty. I'm serious - I can't really afford you this - you know I have 54 friends, not correspondents of course, but you would soon become an expensive one - were you not so generous! Please send me if it is only 6?! I'm like some poor widow in a station-waiting-room who writes a begging letter - you know the class I mean. I have to deal with them in my district. So - please don't forget me miss, and good night. Ever yours, Jessie [My love to Dr.] If [she] Dr. remarks you unhappy, tho' you are not to be, after this - she can call me a wretch - but she is not to write to Mother or allow any rumpus. The boy would have cause for complaint & feel thoroughly taken in & done for. As it is now, weare all good friends in so far as he is coming sometimes to see Mother in the usual arguing way. So it is cheerful Paul after all. This is hilarity you will think; but I am serious. Serious fun. x x I am afraid you find me rather George Meredithy - did you read the Chrm's account of Lord Ormond. Recommend it to C.P. to read - the account I mean not the book. He will like about the Scotch poor man (was it Scotch I forget) - it will remind him of his old sailor friend. [*We meet soon - You are, by letter - at least I hope so. I hope I've done no mischief?*] Third is "notes" to amuse you. I am not in a position to recommend reading to C.P - unless 2. fully) what I should most have liked. 1, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, S.W. All of this confession is quite unnecessary. Keep your self aloof from it if ever referring to the subject of me with C.P. Again I must just say, he knows me far better than you. I am sorry to give you such a scrawl - but I really haven't time just now to be countrified - this time a week hence I shall be in Wilts. I always take my love at fever heat. Country or anywhere- or wherever I am. But I am very calm with C.P. now (writing goes so!) Back to writing scribble again: Ireally ought not to have told you any of this. C.P. demurred to open the question with you & I said "its all right." I felt I was wrong. He is always right & I wrong. I hope you haven't told him I like him. If you have no wonder he calls you names. He doesn't mean it & if you think it serious I can make him put it all right-- Patronising am I not?! You know you have written me no details of what you know from C. (you need not be afraid - I like home thrusts & horrid truths) so how can I write to you with any understanding of how to treat you? You wish to hear from M. - well I could write you exactly what she would say - A quiet letter full of rectitude - & far too fair to me (!!!) it could be - So you had best not have it. It would make things seem serious when they are not. I have not sent your boy to the bad - I am sure. What else shall I say? So I am not to write to C.P. Certainly not, unless an answer is required. I have heard from him twice today. I have written to him 2. today. No harm I assure you -- You do not know me I am notmiserable. Please don't have any more distress & anxiety. C.P. and I are I hope going to be matter-of- fact every-day friends. Don't put a stop to it: I will go to tea at 88 S.J. with you-- if he asks us, with much pleasure-- no outward pain nor resentment for me. C.P. has a liking for me (not love now if he ever had) so must you have - so please do what I tell you. Interval. I have just got up from writing this to dust off my blue & white muslin & ribbon blouse (the one I read ----- in on Sunday last with roses, Leo, &c - all in solitary pagan luxury!) & receive Mabbie & Leo & anoint the latter with a mange medicine. Alas, poor L. To Mabel I quoted a [*Jessie Newcombe*] 1. 1, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, S.W. June 26. Evening Dearest Kit, Your pitiful note (pitiful I mean on your account) shall not if I can help it, - but I am an awful seive (don't tell C.P.!!!), - be seen by Mabel. But I have shown her your last three - just read one together. With me she was quite distressed on your account: I often say "Poor Kitty." But I don't think I need now distress her (probably) further on your account, because we thoughtyou comforted from a P.C. of this morning! Yes I have told her everything - even have given her a note to 'Dear Jess' to read - this did'nt seem loyal to the boy - but Mabel is my nearest. I do not go quite so far with Mother but I have discussed my folly sufficiently severely with her!!! I am sorry to deny you a nice letter from Mabel - I know exactly how sensibly she would write to you; but please not a 3rd writer on the subject - regard the boy's & my feelings. No, C.P. doesn't mean you were a fool (you could not help introducing us.) He means that I am. Well, I am not going to complain - It is quite fair & quite true & quite just - anything severe he likes to say of his once -- --. So that is how he likes to inform you, well you will be surprised, but I am not. I am quite submissive. You wont understand me in the heart. Don't tell C.P. that I am a puzzle. He knows me far better than youdo now. We are just starting a calm good friendship. If you could see our intimate though dignified & very far apart letters - you would understand that all is in a fair way to be good, true and right. Everything as regards me is under Mabel's guidance. As regards C.P. -- well were I talking with you I might speak of what guidance he is under. I could write you sheets, but I want to be dignified, & C.P. has helped me by sweet manly conduct in renouncing me &c &c &c. All goes well. I do not want pity - I make myself be happy in giving up (but it was never mine to have - there's my1, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, S.W. June 23 Dear Kitty - It is a suffocatingly close day - very lovely; but very stuffy in London. I don't know why it is borne upon me to give you a letter, unless that it seems in a way refreshing to think of you near the Sea - be you either in Ireland or your Hastings home. I thought of you oncethis week as I heard indirectly (but t'was only praise) of the Swanley College. You owe me a letter: possibly you have forgotten that fact. I saw the Bishop on Friday. I have stayed more than a week at Greyladies; and I am now just about to become one (for 2 days in the week only, because of my parents, and I live at home). The Bishop enrols me possibly this week. You will think because I have joined a kind of sisterhood that our interests are likely to be farther apart, and you will write to me less. But i think it should be more. There is no reason why when leading a more devotional life one should not have secular missives. I don't mean that you are not perhaps the more devotional really; but I like you to write in a humorous vein. So manyare so serious. Yrs affectionately Jessie Newcombe Tell me what you've been reading lately: novels while in I? I have been "at" Adelaide Ann Proctor: no better possibly than M.A.'s poems. Northarte East Croydon July 8th 83 Dear Miss Barry, Mabel suggests that I should write you a letter, she feels sure that you will like to have more than one from her. It is a great pity that you could not give us the pleasure of a visit, but more so that you are unwell. I hope you will soon be better, and able to go out; you will be longing to welcome the "Cheap-Trippers', who by this time must be greatly infesting your town and country; "Frederick North, his seat" will be bestrewed with strawberry calyxes, cherry stones, orange peel &c. Of course one would rather not see such debris; but such untidyness is better shown in those that in broken wine-bottles, of which wehope for less this year, on account of the increase of total abstainers. I do not know if you approve of Temperance, we are pretty strong on the subject. Mamma gave a drawing-room meeting and semi-garden party to some of my Members of the Young Abstainers Union, yesterday week, at which, as Mabel told you, we had hoped for your company, reckoning that you might have been amused and interested with viewing the "young people." It was very successful and might have been more so if the 37 instead of 26 had come. One nice little girl who was going to recite (a pretty child, and I thought she would have been good for "effect" you know, for one must think of that a little) did not turn up at all; she wrote to me nearly a week after, by which time I was 'most giving up hopes of an explanation, saying "Mother said it was too hot to come." I do think some people are too cool. But we sat in all night without her; a nice boy (who has been to America, and is thusly made much nicer!) sang "So early in the mornin'," in-stead. Our speaker, Mr. A.C.P. [Coote?], a very nice Cambridge (England) man, 'gave a most interesting address' (truly "Reporting" language, is'nt that?) which I think you would have been able to have heard. Last Monday, Mamma Mabel and I went to a donkey show; I enclose a programme, that you may see its whereabouts, and judge of the kind our society was. Costermongers, their wives, sisters, brothers, daughters, sons, &c &c, certainly do hustle and jostle one, especially when one has a large basket of roses, &c, tied up in little bunches, ready for distribution. I think Mamma almost despaired of seeing us again; as she beheld Mabel and I with our baskets being 'floated along' by a crowd of importunate flower 'have'rs (I can scarcely say 'lovers' for their appearances did not bespeak of the possession of such a quality) - whose extended arms very often reachedof their own accord into our baskets. We were soon rid of our burden. (which we had originally intended for the adornment of the donkeys and their owners), but not the baskets - they were not quite theives, and went and viewed all the donkeys; whose masters were very proud of their beasts, and spoke with much enthusiasm of their merits - the work they had done that day, their age, &c. "Here Mrs Newcombe", said one who had heard a friend speaking (addressing) Mamma, "look at my Jenny; ain't she a - &c. &c It was really most nice, and one quite felt that they were not all cheats, who had been cruelly treating their beast, and then being looking smart, in order to obtain their 5/-. For we finished up the day with a nice Meeting; at which the Earl of Shaftesbury (aged 84), after having been all round the show, in the stuffiness of all these dirty people, took the chair, and gave the gifts. Lady Edith was with her father, we noticed she had put on a washing dress; quite an advisable thing! But we gained nothing in that way, and came away much delighted with our afternoon. July 9th I have 'over [hauled?]' Mabel's letter in order that I shall tell you nothing that she has dwelt upon. Perhaps you are like Bertha, who very much snubbed a letter of mine, because I had said the same as Mamma had told her. I call that very hard, and almost agree with some people that it is nice to have two or more peoples' description of, or opinion on, the same subject. Trusting you agree with that I am going to venture on what you may have heard from Mabel before. Bertie (Bertha) came home a week ago, bringing some nice pictures which she had 'made' in spite of the bad weather she had had at Islip (which of course prevented her having nice tennis parties, &c to go to in the country); she also brought a large box of waterlilies, forgetmenots (river ones), yellow-flags, grasses, roses, &c. We were quite overdone with flowers. I dare say you have readthe June Harper, but in case you might not have noticed this (one seldom reads the Editor's Drawer - I think), I must just copy what tickled our fancy (all of us) most tremendously. "Some people's ideas about hospitality are peculiar. A servant in Brooklyn recently answered the door-bell, and, returning, informed her mistress that a man at the door wanted to know if he could come into the front hall and have a fit!" We do think that funny, (there is also a piece on the next page, beginning "A Mount Holyoke girl -&c" very funny), for one knows how people do have fits &c. on purpose. It has struck me about that you are rather short sighted, so I have taken up another pen, but rather late, as I must now leave off. With love, Yours truly, Jessie W. Newcombe To Miss K Barry. July 9:83.1 Cheyne Walk S.W. Wednesday Dear Kit For a good school kept I believe by two M.A.s (Oxon & Camb.) & their wives write to Miss Berry Farise Nr. Wrotham Kent and ask her to kindly send you the address or her picture if she has one of the excellent half- time school near Hayward's Heath that she was always worrying me tosend all my young friends to. I know a child of 15, Sydney Blow, who has done well there I believe. his mother also enthuses on the subject. I believe we may have to go to Scotland instead of Switd. because of Mother & A.. For the latter (Switzerland), M. suggested going with you! Of course it would be very nice- even if you wanted to go - but - . Foolish Kitty, why make points of honour where there are none - no opportunity for such. Were there, of course, out of all nice feeling, I should comply with your wishes - which would also be mine - & be silent. As it is, harrow my feelings then (if you will have it so) and send what you do not like to send - your reproffs to me. I am far too busy to write you accounts of playing cricket withyoung clergy - or anything else dull & dreary - my letters seem to have so little interest for you. Why say "g. l. for a time" - that is irritating to my earnestness on the subject. Of course I am going on at it straight away till I'm 60. For the outer woman - my new dress & cloak you will be glad to hear are ready for the Autumn. For a bonnet one g.l . about to be married gave me hers. That's nicer because one hates all new clothes. Now mind, you'll have to write me nicer letters because being always with p.r-people in spirit is rather dull. You'll have to reform please, -start next year, or in Novr. - and write me accounts of a poetical pr. secty. and not, unless they know one another well, of abeautiful dark hair'd pale face & dark eyed Irish girl. Don't forget Yr ever affect. Jessie Newcombe I extracted yrs. out of 5 missives just now. But you must write again: Mabel is not [well] looking strong, and just off to Wilts friends for a few weeks. So I shall be drearily dull. Don't forget to. A Westminster woman (cleaner House of Commons not w.o. one) is going to High St. Home for week about the 22, but perhaps you have no time for visiting my friends - or I would send her name.Wednesday [*Newcombe*] Dear Kit I've just written to you and then thought how unkind of me not to have allowed myself more moments and written neatly. Pardon it - my nonchalant untidiness. You who are so fond of beautiful exteriors, elegances and vanities, would be interested in our neighbourstarting off now to Henley - at other times to Ascot or whatnot. Were you here you would go to see B. on Sat. at a bi. Meet with Fabian, artistic & aristocratic friends and acquaintances. The enclosed are the kind of "good works' we do at Westminster: The enclosed is'nt exactly wasted in sending to amuse you. I don't go to Meetings if I can help it; and this afternoon we [all] go to the theatre, with a clever parsoness who is staying here - the Belaugh one. You must return me this penny stamp; because a g.l. can't afford to write two notes to one person in one morning!! I have become quite vain because one young parson has sent me, gratis, sucha good character for good works. It was not meant cheekily. Always affection'ly J.N. I've got such a 'heavenly' evening dress of pale satin; you would like it. I don't know if I ought to stray from doing Nat. Hist. work for Pater and philanthropy for Mabel to draw it for you, but invalids always like pictures - so Really this is rather idle.Offham. Arundel Sept. 18 My dear Kitty, I borrowed some greek books from a friend. She promptly sent them me. Perhaps you havent the V. of W. if so kindly tell me! I suppose you read the outside of your D. Chronicle: one announcement interested me. I want to go blackberrying so shall not write you a letter. I don'tsuppose you care for one, anyway. Italy, Switz. and France we haven't gone to yet; perhaps we may not go this year. Yours affect. Jessie NewcombeNewcombe Miss K. Barry120 Marina S. Leonard's. Oct 4. 10. pm. Dearest Kitty, I have twice re-read your letter, and I find nothing much different in it than what I read this morning (hardly - only I might have been excused, reading in the street, had I not noticed all). Was it not an answer to me, and yet shall I not comment? I am too lazy to read just now, & people in l- always write letters incessantly - to all their friends, don't they? [At least] I have only just discover'd it tho'. In what way is my theory of correspondence different to Alice's? In that I don't retail detailed accounts of my friends - I thought I had done so too much at one time. I'm glad I've forgotten Lilliesleaf - that is if I evertook the trouble to read it; t'was in the nursery - for I should hate to realize myself in a pitiable form. I'm happy enough one moment (egoism, ugh!) and dull enough the next. The morrow may bring forth happiness one never knows. Heaven, chance, fate, reason, [a duty], telegrams, duty, always take everything out of ones hand, and one sits still in maidenly miserableness and waits. I was in that sitting down state today, & a wretched preoccupied companion for you. I apologize. I write in enigmas. The result may be that you are either bored or annoyed, or think it [conceit?]. Well, you are a woman, and straightforwardness & simplicity would be tame, or disheartening or depressing to you. I haven't [really] any mind & am in reality just a simple idiot; so I make the best of it and with all this jungle of words try to make out to you that I have some brains. I spent an afternoon lodging- hunting & when I went to tell your friend the Matron we were not going to her (I discovered that professional rules in one way made it too difficult: I wish to do what Mother would like in having Dr. Shaw if it should be needful; he could not have well come to the house; that was'nt it so much, as I could not well keep A. away from the - what we consider - less preferablekind of medicin - and so forth! I am both sorry & glad it was not possible to go) we chummed together - religious questions & sick social - much & she gave me nice tea, bread & butter & a homemade Bun! So I was indeed rewarded for that introduction. No I shan't keep a journal at all. I hate facts. At least I reject the recounting of them. Very well, Kitty I shall write you dull, facty, schoolgirly sort of letters henceforth. Tell me how you like them. I am giving you an end-flare-up with all this nonsense, for [at] the last and betraying a good deal of latent feeling as well as uppermost feeling. You will think I'm not a bit simple, not a bit straightforward, & not at all a suitable friend for the blue eyed sage, and yet you are altogether wrong. We are the best of friends. I suppose you never think of the blue eyed baby as a philanthropic-sage, do you? [*You think it, the B.E.B. as a man-about-town sort of sage, don't you; one who stays at country houses constantly &c. &c. Don't you?*] Well, when you are 60 you shall have your philanthropists' letters to read -- that is all I can do to please you. I wonder if walks with you are at all profitable to me. I fear not, you are not severe enough. I am so abominably conceited -- thats' unprofitable to you. When with you Kitty, I begin to get desperate-- you haven't a calming influence you see! You have an influence for reason. But docome lots of long walks if you care to come here (cool I fear I am; but I have nursing to do - so may be excused). I will try & get to you: I will leave this tomorrow & face Sarah for auld lang syne. Show me the pretty Symmons: pretty people are such a good reason- conscience-tonic: your black- eyed friend of today rubbed me up the wrong way magnificently. So you see I'm simple after all Kitty, and I'd better go to bed and not write you such a "cordially detestable" (I like those words I got them from Bertha) letter. Do you know (here comes a flaring peice of confession) I can never quite forgive you what you once (and not so long ago either) suggested Mabel might receive unopened at the hands of Mr. __. As if I ever should write to anyone who did'nt write to me first. I may never have grown up; but I have lon[g] had maidenly instinct enough to know that such conduct would have been unpardonable I don't tho' suppose you ever thought me capable of doing so except thro' ignorance. Did you? For thatreason I forgave you, but my feelings won't forgive you-- old wounds won't quite heal in that way. I do outwardly forgive you; and so you must'nt mistrust me when I show any coldness on subjects warm to you: I am at such moments remembering; and a confusion of mistrusting ideas springs up, and a loathing of anything that is'nt straightforward & simple & clear, is very keen. I am writing all this: is it instead of read Geo. Meredith? You will think so. I hate Geo. Meredith. [drawing] That is Leo resting for the night in this drawing room. A. is a hassock T. is his tail. L. is his legs. O I beg your pardon Kitty -- I forgot you were American. I should have said Leo's limbs. I am always cutting salad with a knife! So sorry. Only you know you did offend my taste in using a slang Anglo-American word - Spooney. I have been writing to you for an hour - is it profitable? Leo has waked up & is staring at me with round brown eyes the words no. no - Then, dear K, with best love Believe me Yours affectionately Always J. overPS I forbid you ever to mention me (not that I'm worth the mentioning) to [H.P.H.?]. Don't forget. Do you know Mabel thinks H.P.H. very exigiant, (How I can't tell & I can't think of English word!) What a shame to talk thus of Mabel My guardian angel, is'nt it?Newcombe[*Jessie*] Chelsea: Tuesday May 19, 1896 My dear K. Toast I like better [than], and eat more of than anything else. Ask nurse at Croydon, and she will laugh! Probably you unconsciously gained that trivial fact either from our breakfast table here; or because I happen to have an 'antique' - a carved ivory handled toast fork over my fireplace here _ _ which has nothing to do with the subject. Why do I waste a penny and give you a return note with such unnecessary speed? Just because it is dull here. I have not much in common with Ada. Ber-[Ber]tha is in Paris. Papa is off to the Christs. Theos. Meeting: I have refused to go with him. The two patients are at Dormans. By the way I gave Mabel another small (?) talk to send to you. You will tire of such. Still you must bear with a little more because I want to set your mind at rest. And mine, because I don't understand what you say. 1. It is nice to have things in a few words -- if I could readily understand them. For instance "I thought of your Father & Mother first &c" - I cannot understand what that means, nor what is "the conceit" I "suppose." Truly, I don't think any noble people conceited really. They may have a little wholesome pride on the surface which looks like real conceit but is'nt really. 2. Rest assured, I am not going to make any wedding gift to your friend or mine either. You must'nt suppose that the "things I would" I should think of doing seriously. 3. You are wrong: I have'nt seen any one resembling your friend beyond that 'double,' once, in a cab I told you of. But "Moral Characters," yes. Even the despised L.G.H. He may be wanting a little in outward manners, and for this Wilburforce may appear despise him. But notreally, for Wilberforce must know that there is a hidden [nobleness] uprightness of character under the badly-bred surface that jars upon one. There, I have torn your nice note up now. C'est tout. I must get to needlework, chattering with Ada about church needlework (hers not mine - mine is mending stockings &c), Bishops, deacons, and all the dreariness of life. If you know any one who would enjoy to hear Mrs Besant lecture on "the Value of Ideals" next Friday 22nd at 405 Oxford St (entrance in Thomas Street) [tickets] price of 1/- & 2/6 _ tell them. My little enemy L.G.H. said I am "given too much to ideals": so I suppose I ought'nt to think of hearing Mrs. B. Perhaps tho', she will talk of things and not persons. Young people look very fresh and trim on their bicycles: I mean the girls in pretty muslin blouses. You would like to see our neighbours were you walking about here. Some were off to the drawing room yesterday after riding at 7. a.m. with their uncle. Do your young people whom you propose to place in Cheyne Row bike? You haven't told me if the lady is 17, or 20, or 22, or 18, or what? But I don't know why you should trouble to amuse me. Oh, yes I do, because it is drearySometimes -always being in cottages and seeing sickness and sadness, or always having to attend some Committee meeting (C.C.H.F. today, and Canon Gore) and associate with indifferent people - dreary, tiresome, cheerful, saints all of them. And to imagine a picture of bright happiness thro' your kind descriptions, is comforting. I shall have Ada saying 'Jessie when are you coming down' if I do not go now. So I will. (off to a Workhouse Sale of work with her!!) Good bye Yours with love Jessie. copied- "P.S. (on envelope) 2 Timothy II - all of the chapter!"Eastcott Nr. Market Lavington Wilts Oct 8 96. Dearest K. How sweet of you to give me such a dear of a book. I enjoy it - those moral teachings as a set off to much light reading here. M.A. was a guiding light also to us in Rome - the statue,you know as a mark [where] in our geog. of the city. Have you read Hen. James's "The Other house." Has Baby? So far I like it not - but I am not thro' yet. With much love and again thanks Believe me Always affect'y J.Jessie NewcombeRome April 12 1896. My dear Kitty Your splendidly long letter of the 9th March I thank you for. Would you like that I read it in the cemetary near Keats' monument, or in S. Peter's or at Frascati, or, which was really the place, just near Keats' flat of rooms in the Piaz. di Spagna. I write to you lazily, in the sun, with a view over the Quirinal Pal ce. and the top of the Fountain of Trevi out of my sunny south - window. Mabel does a terribly 'great deal' of sight-seeing in Rome. Today, Sunday, she is resting and I have been both to the Capitoline Museum (Dying Gladiator, &c.) and the Hall of the Conservitors, and several churches, and a walk. So my mind is full of fauns and fancies of centuries B.C., and modern relics of Garibaldi &c, and not fit tothink how to converse intelligently with you. Of course I like the expression of the calm face of Beat" Cinci. If she was'nt a criminal, it is nicest to think the picture was of her, that it is a genuine portrait. It is an exact likeness of Alice V. Whittemore an American I have often written to you about. Yes, you were quite right: printed-matter sent as a gentle reminder that a letter would be acceptable! I think I shall send off something else to you for a copper! What shall it be? A Florentine frescoe? We were some days in Florence and I liked the place very much. Only Philistines could not, of course. A fortnight here is longer than we meant to give, but the country round is so attractive. As we came on the Eve of Good Friday, the town was very full: Hotel d'Italie could'nt receive us for a week to come. We were sorry for that, as Mr. Hare (Augustus J.C.) is there. But I am talking too much about Rom (! why does one hate Germans so: they abound in Italy just now) and not enough about you and your letter. I did not think Paris looked depressingly grim in the rain, just round about Notre Dame, perhaps a little; but we were in a bright pleasant part. I saw Paris also under sunshine. It is true that woods may be carpeted with flowers to an extravagant tangle, and the Mediterranean not deep blue, but shining gold, as gold as it can be,-- as one looks at it across the Campagna but for all that, neither attractionappeal to me enough to say anything about such sights to you or any one. One would have it be in a state of bumptious, cheerful self-satisfaction, and contentment, to give any genuine expression to appreciations. I would much like to have those worthy copied-out lines you speak of, please; yes, and the Browning ones also. Talking of poets, did you read a criticism rightly appreciative of of K. Grahame's Golden Age on March 31st? We are not taught anything of the "gospel of Hate" by those Americans we are constantly mixing with in travelling. Of course the 'haters' do not often come to Europe to experience our bumptiousness. Yes of course I like Hyires in a way. I love French peasants: they are more amiable and smiling than English poor-people. I saw that villa you mentioned: it was truly 'elaborate': the garden pleasant, Thanks so much for stamps. Even though I only write about two letters a week, counting home ones. Yes, R.E. is indeed narrow in his wish to avoid religious teaching. Miss 'Amie' will, in the end, become a R.C. perhaps; for if she finds herself thus deprived, the easiest way to supply a need which she may feel will be to grasp R. Catholicism. For as well as for a refuge for overworked brains, the R.C. religion is for the other extreme of those knowing nothing, is it not? Many thanks for your long epistle. Yours Jessie P.S. Siena. The little prints I gave you were stamped for me by a god- child of Alex. Dumas. She was very sweet and nice, an amiable French girl married to an Italian. Her son Mario aged 8 was lovely. You would haveliked the child. He drew my portrait and wrote underneath "Mademoiselle du Ris." Do you like Siena? [*Jessie*] (Early in March '95) 1 Cheyne Walk London S.W. Dear K. No of course [g. & m.?] sentiments are the same you did not understand me -- or rather I was applying maidenly sentiments to myself & not to you. You are quite right to let a matter drop into oblivion when you were told to. Probably you think me wrong not to help you: but I wish to keep to [my] a principle[s] - viz that I have a different point of view to you. Thank goodness High Churchism (I am not entirely High Church myself) teaches me to endure to be misunderstood. How differently you (& Mabel in a way; she is "matter of fact") look upon life: you, to avoid pain (I am speaking of a principle now, not of obeying a command) would sink things in oblivion. As I understand feeling a wish for oblivion, it is in cases of really unpleasant memories (of indignities such as a social fault, in youth, at a dinner-party; or at a tea in the presence of the Countess of ---. I can only remember two); but if I wanted to particularise I could show you thatI have none of these, [in] no faux pas (but one or two wrong impressions in writing perhaps) in the evan't fr'p with Galahad (you think me familiar to use a fancy name?) Your note came to me in Mabel's & gave me of course intense pain. I appear'd to be amused as I read it to her - & she says "why do you write to K.: you don't agree, therefore you should drop writing." No that would not be honest on my part To show you how differently you think to me -- I will tell you what I have just made myself go thro'. The night before I heard from you I spent the night in tears for from a matter of conscience I had to "my rector" spoken of a subject (patronage to the poor at a temperance meeting) I deplored at Westminster & had brought down his censure, & was accused by him of "insubordination" (This is a private letter: destroy it at once Kitty; you make me "simply furious" on that subject. I don't mind the whole of creation seeing my epistles when they are not "about birds & flowers & the weather", when they do not concern others. But as they all stand, to you, a woman friend ((you don't understand friendship-female, or you would burn them at once. You only say probably - yes, they are to a woman, so any one, if I died suddenly would, when they saw & destroyed them, understand this. You might not be picked up, petticoat bodice & all, by a woman, so your argument is poor. Excuse my supposition.)) I think, and command, that you should at once destroy every word. If you don't, then don't let me write. I often greatly regret your friendship -- you have taken things so seriously & so little understand me.) (I hope you like these parenthesis) Well, I am not "Mrs. Hickman", & tho' I wish to be, I am not schooled in immediate subordination, so insteadof "burying "my apparent defeat "in oblivion", after my repentence, & a note, I go to him, a spiritual friend of the rector, not a social--whom I had offended & things are put right. On my return my "father-confessor Quakeress" happened on her return from staying with Lady Fry, to come & chat cheerfully: & then I heard, spontaneously also, from Ruth S -- & Helen Russell; * *One feels like a doctor, when friends one has forgotten, charming girls tho' they are -- come for your confidence & wish your sympathy and advice. You know it? & then you tho' not spontaneously - put in a word. Misery is rewarded, you will say by friends not lost to one. I mean the misery of that night after being condemned for acting for conscience. After (but who can tell what good "a word in season" tho' condemned for it may do!) I threw all pride over; & simply expressed my wish to obey. There is nothing sweeter or easier than yielding your will to that of a moral & good person -- even if that other's judgment, as the rector's was, is different to yours. I can't understand how you, reverencing Dr. as you do, can 2. ever be regardless of time & late for lunch!!! I suppose you don't possess a weak nature? March - '95. Well, perhaps it would be better if I were dignified, & took an honester stand & protested, but, it seems to me, that I just sacrifice myself in hearing quietly that you can keep [things] arguments bad for my sake. It is not very flattering to the value I hold your friendship that I can stoop to do so. Still, let that rest: I must thank you for telling me; but of course I can't help my disappointment in you. This little letter of Alice's -- is it like your Alice's? It [just] happened like with [Buril'?s] the other day, just once in a way that a friend's letter comes along with nothing in it that matters and I thought my d a l's ('distinguished american lady' I named her) might amuse you in its simplicity. Destroy it. It is funny her 'intended' has nearly the same name as she, is it not? Iwonder if I send you too much to amuse you, sometimes - theatre programmes even - I don't trouble other friends with 'tracts' in the same way. 'Chloe' and the other tale are not perhaps worth reading but you must read "General Ople & Lady Camper" in Geo. Meredith's (forgive it being his) "The Tale of Chloe". It will amuse you: there is nothing unXtian about its satire. When our friends' choice of words jars upon us it is sad enough even tho' we can sincerely tell them; but when it is a case of these we can (within the limit of charity of course) ridicule - it is keenly funny - all they say. I so sympathise in this story with Lady Camper in her delight in putting her little inscription on the back of the first caricature. Then the story gets stupid; and then it ends as one expects & wishes. There, that sort of criticism I have just written is prosaic material you may keep it you like, K.! I have read B. Thorold on the loss of (dead) friends. Tis pretty enough. Mr. Purcell Smith came to luncheon on Q C.C. [?] Election day - & other people, & the little Costelloes. But those people dont interest one, so I sha'nt say more. At Xmas I spent another 3 1/2 guineas on my blue cloak & have a fur lining in it - a nice grey squirrel. Dont, in what I've told you about High Churchism, be afraid or hope of my stepping over to Rome! There is not enough, to me, of reality in ritual, for that. My lamentable sense of the ludicrious gets uppermost often; & I am disheartenedat receiving 'no blessing;' The very under- housemaid clergy (not rector) under whose guidance I am placed, and who writes me nice notes full of pretty humour, annoys me; for he is a musician and countenances real heavenly music where I think (tho' I don't say so) it should not be applied in the Service of the ch.: it is vexing that the creed that should be spoken by all, should be elaborately sung by the Choir. But I must submit - even to what ones real taste dislikes. It is at once crushing & invigorating - such submission. Now that's the sort of disquisition you needn't preserve, K. "Uninitiated" I shall send by K . & Q. for you to read. Now, Jeremy Taylor (I am often [inspired] bothered to call you that - you can't know why) I have reached 2 sheets. Is it my limit, or shall 3 I go on to a 3d and 4th? Could'nt you hold a sheet in one hand, and a lighted match in the other, and so destroy, and then you would not feel the irksomeness of these long monthly talks. Try it. I see I did not tell you the end of my rector's condemnation. After I had fully expressed my submissiveness, he wrote, calling my words [nice] 'kind & nice' and imagines me 'friend,' (spiritual) as he addresses me. I am not so sure. I think our real friends, spiritual and social are those we feel sure really understand us. I never call you a real one, quite, as you know!! But to continue the story another [request] Friend, Canon -- (a personal one) - but you must surely have had enough (tho now I was coming to the funny part!) and I will desist. March 19 It is dull with M at D. & I would fain add to this and tell you of things that might interest you(such as the subject of Mr.C. Jackson's wishing M. to undertake Chelsea secretaryship for the Ch.l. Holiday Socty ; and also 'Flo' coming yesterday. She is very sweet & good & I admire her for having been engaged for 3 years & never telling me till [then] now - ) but I am afraid of making this epistle long, so I won't 'enlarge' on persons & subjects. 21st March. Why is it so restful of an evening when one tires of books & [work] sewing to scribble to any one who is glad to receive it. Truly I am very idle. I am rather sleepy with being out at Richmond with Mother, for fresh air, in the park and on the Gardens' Terrace above the town overlooking the river which glistens in a pretty valley of trees. Do you know it? I must thank you for your card of 19th - Tiresome! tiresome! tiresome! that what should have been burnt soon after receiving, so simply and easily, should have become an accumulation, and to have taken you time, so that you were questioned and had to admit you were burning epistles. Absolutely annoying, and contrary to all my tastes & ideas of fitness of things. God forbid you should ever have had to enlarge your own house on my epistles' account. Well, I suppose it results in my having to call you friend and consider you so - for I have to suffer so much at your hands. Still, that ostentatious burning of papers, which ought never to have accumulated, is hard to bear, and makes me almost wish never to give you more words. But I shall, I am going to, and it will give you a chance to do better by me -- with immediate destruction. Worldly affinity (You had but one f: is your mind warped! I thought I monopolized all bad spelling) may be psychical, because there is hidden soul in every living person. No -for I have "pet-aversions" and fads in words & simpatica ever displeased me. And, my dear, I'm not interested (directly) in your interests! I fear I may be a little untrue to myself tho' in saying that - perhaps it is mere pride K, andmy genuine hatred of the sentimentality of women's friendships of any intimacy - sickly I consider them. And my pride will not allow of such 'genuine' friends. There are two or three people I would gladly die for (as to nurse them with small pox - or save their lives in any unnecessary way) but they are not women. Don't talk of simpatica again, I will not admit its existence - altho' I fear I was the one to cause the subject to arise. Well, you know you are all the same welcome to say to me what you like - your words are safe. I am so used to the openings out of others' confidences that, years ago, I became quite patronising. This is not very flattering to you, but you see it pleases my vanity to say it. So moralise, as much as you like. Please do. Dr. Wilberforce was tremendously 'broad' in faith yesterday: "it is not so much the so called infidel propagandism but the hypocracy of the pulpit - often branding people as atheists & infidels - that lacks the faith." Church people 4 [people] may have God on their lips but not in their lives!" "We are not to dare to brand anyone as being without God." "Somewhere deeply ingrained within everyone - Theos" This was the gist of some of Mr. W's exhortations to, not of his definitions of, Faith. Saturday - I've lit a pink & a white candle, tis blowing a "Southwester to your description's content without - & I must [finish up] enliven the end of a dull day with you. Dont think because of what I've written you above that I think you K, as Hood describes one of those "Saints- All cant and rant and rhapsodies high-flown That bid you baulk A Sunday walk And shun God's work as you should shun your own." Perhaps you don't like Hood? Any way I know you dont in [principle] practice, tho' you do in principle direct, baulk a S. walk. You would love to hear of my dull day today - so absolutely conventional. Within doors entirely since lunch - before a prim ride with Agnes in the Park, tearing up & down the Ladies' Mile. Monday I am just about to tear up your nice letter of 29:. It is best that I do not "prove to you" where I think your inconsistency lies: I will be instead misunderstood. No -I should not like like to see letters back, because my letters to you were not of the nature of letters, but conversations. I do possess one of my own that I asked one of my correspondents to return me: he thought it a good specimen I can't say I admire it. I should not mind seeing your extracts - that is a different matter - would have some of you in it - your criticism. And this appeals to one's vanity & wd therefore be pleasing to me. March 2. You can see I had inserted a "Monday" in place of 1 April yesterday; and I remember doing it because I dislike practical jokes in any form; and thought that date might be suggestive of one. Rest assured, you have no fear of "fooling" from me. A childish joke in [some] ones own family - I endured it; but never should think of extending it further. Many thanks for your letter. I enjoyed it. I should like many more from you; but I can hardly ask it, for you do not write the rate nor the rubbish I do. I sent you a stamp because I should not have minded if you had done the same to me. Also I [was not] had sent the 1/2 letter as an experiment, thinking I knew you well enough, and there was nothing private in the letter. I had been told letters could go thus. I wanted to try. I am glad they can't. About Don and the lifeless dress I read to B and M. You need'nt trouble about the K. and Q. Still you can leash up your dogs full ten palings off like Mistress Gilpin's carriage was stayed, could'nt you? I only want you to have the book I've lent you - or you can let Mother bring it home please. I like that about the melancholy face youwrite - an expression created by Guido - I shall enjoy those words of yours! I am glad my trivialities interest you, it makes it so tremendously easy for me to dash off any conversation to you at any moment - and so not waste time over a letter. But it is conversation, MIND; and not to be kept - REMEMBER! I pass the A. & N. every Wed. & Friday; but I don't think I shall go and do your commission - tho' it would give me pleasure. Quite a criminal feeling tho' I should have to endure, on asking for blank book with lock & key! Alan sounds a very nice child: you will get fond of him: I hope his career will be to your mind. On page (at the bottom of it) 49- & 50 of "Gallia" I thought of you. Six chapters of that book are perhaps idle enough reading for me, of it, till I am 60. As yet I have attempted (enjoyed??) no more. Have you? I must [con] allow women writers are clever. How am I going to a 5th sheet: it seems 5 impossible to talk on 4. Should you be uglily dressed & be ignored I should think no pleasure is to be got out of evenings. There was a 1 act play (3 clever people in it) and music (Mary Davis &c) at the at home I spoke of. It was not a dance nor anything festive that Lent should make it distasteful. Being ugly I never go to anything festive. Neither do I get asked to dinners (only Bertha) - tho' I like them. Always was greedy. Mabel has just gone with Ada to the Dr's. We had no friends yesterday except 2 of mine - Anne Marsh, and Helen. Women friends I suppose are nice: even if one has to be kind and appreciated & made a fuss over. All friends are nice when they've got beyondthe stage of wishing to box your ears. It invariably happens. Your Baby expressed the desire spontaneously (I must confess it rather surprised me) early in the acquaintance! There go the muffled canons off, at the Hospital - Sir P. Grant's funeral. My doings do not interest me - so I can't write of them. One thing tho' does - "I enjoyed walking along with Ruth on Sunday * [*Why Sunday in town?*] morning." That sentense conveys nothing to you. Or it does, if Mother gave you a scrawl to read describing also a sermon and aigrettes. If we can't see people we like to look at in this world - it is curious that we are often - if their type to a frequent (I would say 'Common') one - comforted by seeing their doubles. Does it often happen to see a 2nd double in one day. In talking to Eustace Russell on Sunday evening it [is] was often impossible not to know that the face was not that of another. From an artist's point of view - a better cut chin, a calmer complexion, a better ear (forgive the analysis), and more repose of manner, constituted the difference. I haven't like writing that last sentense and I hope you will tear it up very quickly. Ithink Mr. Salis Schwabe's Reminiscences of Richard Cobden will be nice to read. Please tell me you forgive me writing the sentence before last It is'nt [a much] a piece of description, - merely a thought. You can lecture me, like Sunday's sermon, on "Beauty of [Thought] Soul and Nature even with an imperfect exterior". I am nearly casting this last sheet into the fire instead of the post; but I think I would rather you tell me if you think I had better have done so? Officers in a cab just gone by - how perfect their exteriors - & clean shaven faces! I think the world is very vain. I think I must be a 'grey lady: will you come & see me at Blackheath? Yours always affect. J.Offham, Arundel. Oct. 7, 1895 My dear K. In order to drive M. with a fast pony in village cart over the esquisite Sussex downs - flying over the turf and gazing over green hills on to your favourite blue sea, and then at 4.45 to stay and have tea with Mother at lodge-gates - with new home-made bread & butter, for four-pence each - this afternoon - I hurried thro' a note to you, and left unsaid the things I might have said - so now I will at once turn to the large fire in huge open stove inone nice room of this comfortable modern farmhouse, and attempt to say them. You may comment on things I say - as much as you like. The "rights" of that D.C. announcement are quite right. It was quite a night as it should be (enter Maid with enclosed envelope - which I don't want back; but perhaps you are a reader of character and will at once dislike that of that writer as I rather do). More I need not say as to detail. I think I told you what my quakeress remarked after she saw said b.g. and me talking closely together. I still like him very much, as much as when I gave you little bits of illustrations of 'tars', and I am looking forward to meeting "Eva Constance". What nonsense I am always scribbling you. I have never any wish to write a book: hence such friends as you are benefitted. Or bored. An "intimate corresp." Dr. cd. call it - I__L__ a well-known member's daughter & I have carried on all this summer. It began over C.C.H.F. as I told you, and then we are interested in subjects - she in theosophy - I in psychology, and 'away our pens go' to one another still. She is very young so sometimes we are a little frivolous, and then serious, forshe is very sweet & good and clever albeit unorthodox in religion. But I've become terribly broad in views since in Wilburforce's [army] regiment. How you dwell on Buddism: I extracted that account in D.C. of a book (in English) on subject and sent to my g. lady Head because she was discoursing on the subject to me. She is a clever woman and I don't really like her; but not for that reason, and she is so sweet & good; but for the Dr. Fell reason. Still t' could'nt have interfered with being a g.l. under her & her brother the bishop. They are of a Devon family - Yeatmans. Please don't speak of the Norfolk Howards & Harris as Lincolnshire. I don't expect you to read a Peerage 2 tho' for they are'nt in it. My corresp. with I__ L__ is like you and your Alice perhaps. My American Alice is just married on 19th Sept; and Flo is become Florence Moore last week: it was difficult you would think to think of so many wedding gifts for all these consecutive marriages. Pater sends us amusing [Grangerisms?] (we tauntingly call them, and he does'nt like it) - extracts - : one from Harper vol. 74 - by Blanche Willis Howard called "Beryl's Happy Thought" which we have this moment enjoyed reading - she has written it so cleverly. It is to be admitted how many brilliantwomen writers there are now- a-days. A contrast to the Scotch Miss Ferrier, whose "Destiny" we finished two days ago. But I like "Edith" very much, don't you? Really I'm rambling on to try and wear this pencil out, for I can think of no other ostensible reason unless it, this ramble, really cheers you to take out with the dogs, and peruse on one of those log seats that Hastings' hills abound in. I think I am forestalling my Lowell and preparing this as a poor return for your nice thought in giving him me. I told you of that nice Boston sketch I bought in Red Lion Passage. Any way I should have welcomed the poems. And nice presents deserve long epistles as returns. I like to think of the long returns you get for your Coerulian fezes &c. &c. By the way I hope you will keep a list of your yearly & Xmas offerings so that by the time I have not read the Middle announcements in "Times" in vain, I may talk about your friends without hurting your feelings, and pry into your pretty Aunt-like devotion - without your thinking that I am deluded or over-interested. Itis raining and I feel more "leisurely", and I suppose you'll think I'm finding things to say not worth saying. (Well, t'will promote instant destruction of worthless epistle, and that's what I like.) Here you run home, write a scolding note; and put it away in your case; and destroy it in a few weeks. Thanks all the same - whether I deserved it or truly did'nt. Thanks in anticipation that is, of the writing of it; and thanks for the generosity which prompts your destruction of it. 8. Oct I have just heard from Clare who is staying at Bedales, and who has asked me for your address - because I once suggested sending you a prospectus of the half time boys school. Yours, J.1, Cheyne Walk Chelsea, S.W. January 18 - 95. My dear Kitty - No Optimistic Katherine I am sorry if you do not like your name; but for me, for associations, it is the embodiment of all that was sweet and good. I mean I knew some one of the name. A letter is owing to you: I have let more than half of June go by. Not without thinking that I ought to give you a letter. I can make it a very long one - as I have much leisure: I am at my round table in the hot sun with dressing=gown on and a smashed side of my head. It was not a bad fall - Agnes's horse came down on the slippery asphalt, and I had to throw myself off. What I cared most for was the pony, & she was soon up & in no way hurt. I went thro' the Row after (12 a.m.: quite safe, Kitty!) and then entertained 3 of my friends to lunch and tea (one the n.c.), and did not confess till night to Mabel & a maid what I had done. Then I had to tell Mother: but it is not necessary for Pater & Claude to know as they would be nervous: the former because he hates horses: the latter because he does'nt approve of [girls] women riding alone. * *I dont except of mornings. Fortunately I took too much Bryonix, so my illness is put down to that. I have to give up tomorrow's ride with [Osmond?] - a [ansis?]: also going with C. to the docks to see Orphis & big boats for the colonies. Don't you hate accounts of peoples' ailments? I think not, because you like accounts of N. E &c winds: and they are very much of the same calibre. C. has been sweetly amiably reading to me the Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. I am in the midst of Drummonds' Ascent of Man, Kidd's Social Evolution, & wish to begin Malory's King Arthur. You meant Tennyson's version (I haven't read Malory yet) when you spoke of S.G.? I have now the different characters clearly sorted in my head. I am going to the Lyceum; but tickets could not be got until for 18th February. On Saturday I skated at Wimbledon with Claude (how pretty was the scene of skaters on the ice -the costumes were very elegant - especially those of the better sex)- and in the afternoon we went to see Henry James's play. I liked it very much: I do not say that because it is the reverse of the popular opinion. I did not go the first night! Leo is quite well at Eastbourne. You asked me, but I cannot think that any account of my district can interest you. S.J. Park station Canon W. mentioned as one of my routes to get there. You need not be afraid, as I go mostly on out of town days - Saty. and Sundy. & on the latter at the breakfast hour of 9.45. So much for place: now for 'work'. There are many people to visit in my street. I very much dislike going, but 2. I am neither "condescending nor familiar" - apart, but perhaps a little of both. 1 Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, S.W. Simple friendship towards the poor is right if you wish to be popular & respected! This is self-centre-ism "if you like", and that Canon W. does not allow in a d.v.! Visiting, showing sympathy with the troubles of others - should rather take one out of oneself; - and yet those troubles are but mostly domestic, concerning severe sickness &c: and so it does not, [always] & does not interest me. Rather is visiting the poor, "deadly dull" My S. scholars would interest you more: for the first few [weeks] Sundays I had indiscriminately little girls or boys 6-8 years, blue eyed & fair haired. Then, for a fixed class the young parson said "You need little boys?" I had'nt known I did, but I replied 'Yes,' so now I am in possession ofattentive little persons ages 4, 5 & 6. These will make you envious, perhaps. I shan't tell you if any have straight hair. For teaching, of course I try to 'influence' them the right way theologically, religiously, & socially - in spite of the presence of an amiable clergyman who hovers about nearby all the hour. That is disagreeable. It is dreary dull 'work'. I write in this cynical way, because tho' I know you have respect for true religion - you must understand there is also an inevitable weary technical side. You would like some description of Claude? He is a very estimable good-hearted fellow in his own way. But when one speaks of persons as good, or kind-hearted, I always feel that that is but 'damning praise', that, tho' it is truth, it is only a cover for a different opinion besides. It always makes me unhappy when I think of you calling me "good- hearted, but with a warped mind!" But to return to C. To let any one go [almost] straight off from King's Col. School to learn engineering by being a workman first, as Claude was allowed, and then to have his own way in going direct to Australia; to have 15 years of bush life - often quite alone; all this seems to [be] me bad for me, like C. who tho' entirely good & moral, has an indolent nature. The question of dress would amuse you. He is quite indifferent to it. One day he will obey the dictates of his tailor, & will walk to church in sufferance with Mother quite tidily intop hat. But it is rather on sufferance, and then the next moment he will rout out colonial clothing - quite regardless of appearance - which to say the least is annoying, & here, quite unpracticable - whatever ones Ed. Carpenter-like-principles may be to do as you like in the country. Then again his voice (sometimes benevolent & slow, but sometimes colonially metallic, at times jars very much. Yes - he is a very good hearted boy. I enclose a bit of D. chronicle description of novel I cut out for you, for you don't like complexity I know. I shall add a P.S. to this - for I've time to write feelings as well as facts. Yours affectionately Jessie W Newcombe.Offham Nr Arundel Oct 15th, 95 Thursday. My dear Kitty, I have just remembered I accepted books and did not tell you that we go home tomorrow instead of few days later. By the way you never said that your V. of W. was safe in parcel. I am always anxious about others' books. With love, Yrs. J.N.Newcomb.[*Newcomb*] Rock House, Exmouth Place, Hastings. 17th March, '97 My dear Jessie - This sheet, but without the date, has long had your name upon it - & her starts a letter. I feel so disgusted with politics that I am downright stupid as to letters: - you see, from the moment Greece declared for Crete, I have had such hope; and now it seems to be all to end in shame for the three true peoples, France, Italy, England. I have been trying to think ofthe title of an address Mr Balfour gave to one of the Scotch Colleges some years ago; it, in effect, as I recall the address, gave out a justification of lying politically, for political ends - lying that would in ordinary life send a Man to Coventry for good, with all decent folks. It seems to one that lying, cowardly work, is just what we are being treated to now. I am emphatically a "mugwump" if ever I have a vote I'll go for the best man or woman, but decline any party. [*Kitty's writing (Barry)*] 16. Nov. 39 Green Park Bath. [Newcomb] My dear Kitty I imagine why you did 'nt give Mabel the 1st hasty reply from your S.G. was that it probably expressed in too "blunt words" two things; one that S.G. did not even read what I wrote to you, and secondly that my name was quite dead to him - that he could never regard me more as a friend! I do not in any way merit such severity; but, I somehow have a way of prophesying such things of others. Was it so? I want to know to what lengths people can go. It may be, and [is] in this case is thoroughly unjust(through misjudjment) but it is compatable with some peoples' actions. I have been reading an early- century book - hence these few stilted remarks to you this evening. Dont let them make your hair stand on end. But I want you to tell me if I may have any hope by taking* [*I have not the chance now: I am expressing of the future.*] a different (to put it commonly I suppose "name") Dont go and and teaze me about the n.c. forthwith. That like the one with S.G. was only a platonic friendship. I have led him "just such a dance;" and it is my 'deserts' that he was rather severe in his last letter. But that is another subject I wont have Mrs. Grundy upset with - so to continue - if I may have any hope by such a change [that] your S.G. would in the future come & see me? Why not? It is unbearable to read in today's Standard Mr Frederic Harrison's eulogiums of Gibbon, and not [with] like him to also "meditate on the charm of a generous friend &c. &c"; and to feel that one bears the blame* *I consider life unbearable without a conscience at peace on the simplest subjects.*] of not having merited that pure generosity, Did you read that report? And do not mind my stilted language - I am quite sincere (further on I am not always "serious;" don't forget.) in writing you this. I expect I shall hear from you soon that you "wish no more of the subject." I wonder if you will write thus! Well, it is no good wondering, as Nurse would say; and I had best waitand see. In the mean time I will beat up some courage and tell you how A. is; and all the dreary cheerfulness of "the daily round [of] and common task." You need'nt think I am cynical: Mabel knows how hard it is to nurse anyone you do not love. But that by the way, A. has had 10 days in bed and [is] was up: I have tucked her up early again, and take her out tomorrow, I hope. I say all this because I imagine you must have asked after her in your letters. I glanced to see if you had, and I think so! She feels very little immediate relief by this treatment. You will think 2) I am beginning again those epistolary doses that you used to take. But it is not so. I doubt not I shall have a pretty sympathetic snubbing from you soon. I expect I merit both your sympathy, and snubbing. The latter for my brutal non appreciation of your letters, Kitty B. You will think I'm a little off my balance (or head!) in writing thus; but I am only giving you some hilarity that is a gift of cheerful spirits that one has to assume in nursing. This is the more difficult when one is in pain and tears for - being treated with unwanted loftiness and roughness and, I "guess" I am asking you to commend me for mysuccess (in overcoming difficulties). I think your dreams about me should be called "Vanity" should they not? I dissect further. Why this self-esteem? I suppose it is because I have still three "esteemed" friends whose affections I have not outworn. The good churchman (old & married) a quakeress (has a husband & yet sympathetic!) and a cousin (I don't approve of mingled families) so there is no fear of any more "Grundy Grumblings." And I expect you think me very wise to keep out of their hearing? Not the least: I shall still have the geog'y lesson if the N.C. so chooses - however much I like or dislike him. I am indifferent on the subject. As far as I remember I think the suggestion of a g'y. l'n. was a morsel of one of letters that I handed you for inspection of caligraphy. Really, Kitty I tire you. [Really] But please it is a change from nursing or reading Leigh Hunts' Life or many novels. Nov.17 Query. Shall I send you this epistle or not? It is hardly a subject for amusement you will say, and yet I like you to take things as I do in an airy way. So I will, but you must tear it up directly you are amused: you must not digest it. The same with a P.S. I am going to add - to scold you! Yours with love J.W.N.