I nearly forgot to say that the workpeople are out of all the rooms, except the servants’ bedrooms, so we are able to make a start arranging furniture. Really, there isn’t time to breathe, but when it is finished Michael will perhaps come home. Oh, the happiness of seeing him walk up to the front door, of taking him round the rooms, of introducing him to all the dear old things, of showing him the garden. I can’t think about it, I cannot bear the separation bravely if I do—and for five days I have had no letter. The weather is delightful for going to and fro from Fernfold. It is warmer, and there is a shade of green over the garden. Snowdrops and a few early primroses make a show of bloom and great fat buds are coming on the lilac trees. Soon there will be violets under the hedges. My lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places. Each morning Ross and I walk over to the cottage with sandwiches and Cornish pasties, eggs and things, and coffee hot as hot in thermos flasks. The two chars meet us there and Nannie and the Gidger come sometimes for tea. We all go home tired but happy in the bus at five o’clock. The General Public will be relieved to know that up to now the horse has not succumbed to any other fits on my account! To-day we arranged the hall. Three sides of it are panelled with black oak. There are large red flagstones for a floor and a wide window looking out across a bit of lawn into a little wood already pierced with bluebell spikes. Amongst the family things there is an old deal settle painted black, and this and a spinning wheel now stand beside the open fire, and where there is no panelling on the walls, I’ve stood an ancient dresser and filled its shelves with plates and dishes, made of stoneware, blue and gold. There are cups to match as well upon the hooks, and on the board below a naval copper rum jug Ross dug up from somewhere, and some copper bowls and pans. The carved oak chest now stands beneath the window, and there are other things besides which you shall see if you like to come and call on me! And then, although it looked so nice it lacked the feel of Michael, and because I am a very foolish woman I hung some caps and a coat of his upon the hooks just by the door, and flung a pipe and matches and a riding whip upon the table, and pretended that he had just come in and said, ’Lunch ready, old lady, what’s the pudden?’ and was gone upstairs for a moment followed by a trail of dogs. Then because he hadn’t, and his things only increased the desolation, and because I have not had a letter for five days, I wept copiously into the aforesaid coat, and made a wet patch on the sleeve. Ross, passing unexpectedly, caught me with wet eyes, so I told him that the smell of Harris tweed always had, did, and would make my eyes water, which was the best excuse I could make at such short notice. This statement my brother received with the tact of an archangel, merely