GEORGINO MIO, Such a whirl ever since we left, that I haven’t had a moment. But to-night (Oh such a relief) Pepino and I have dined alone, quite à la Riseholme, and for the first time I have had half an hour’s quiet practice in my music-room, and now sit down to write to you. (You’d have scolded me if you’d heard me play, so stiff and rusty have I become.) Well, now for my little chronicles. The very first evening we were here, we went out to a big dinner at dearest Aggie’s. Some interesting people: I enjoyed a pleasant talk with the Italian Ambassador, and called on them the day after, but I had no long conversation with anyone, for Aggie kept bringing up fresh people to introduce me to, and your poor Lucia got quite confused with so many, till Pepino and I sorted them out afterward. Everyone seemed to have heard of our coming up to town, and I assure you that ever since the tiresome telephone has been a perfect nuisance, though all so kind. Would we go to lunch one day, or would we go to dinner another, and there was a private view here, and a little music in the afternoon there: I assure you I have never been so petted and made so much of. We have done a little entertaining too, already, just a few old friends like our member of Parliament, Mr. Garroby-Ashton. (“She met him once,” thought Georgie in parenthesis.) He insisted also on our going to tea with him at the House of Commons. I knew that would interest Pepino, for he’s becoming quite a politician, and so we went. Tea on the terrace, and a pleasant little chat with the Prime Minister who came and sat at our table for ever so long. How I wanted you to be there and make a sketch of the Thames; just the sort of view you do so beautifully! Wonderful river, and I repeated to myself “Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.” Then such a scurry to get back to dine somewhere or other and go to a play. Then dearest Aggie (such a good soul) had set her heart on presenting me and I couldn’t disappoint her. Did you see the description of my dress? How annoyed I was that it appeared in the papers! So vulgar all that sort of thing, and you know how I hate publicity, but they tell me I must just put up with it and not mind. The house is getting into order, but there are lots of little changes and furbishings up to be done before I venture to show it to anyone as critical as you, Georgino. How you would scream at the carpet in the dining-room! I know it would give you indigestion. But when I get the house straight, I shall insist on your coming, whatever your engagements are, and staying a long, long time. We will fix a date when I come down for some week-end.