"Well, I must try to write sober sense if I can. I congratulate you on your polo match. I sometimes get a strong yearning to leave my prison, and get some movement into my slow torpid existence. No—I am not torpid. I feel my brain is keener than ever. You will laugh at a literary effort of mine. I was reading a minister's account of his village, historically, botanically, geologically, and legendarily. So I've started a book on our loch and neighbourhood, and I can't tell you what an interest it is. I have routed out some of your old books here, and I've sent to Mudie's for a few more, and I hope to borrow some from Hugh Macdonald, who has become quite friendly. I can see he thinks me harmless, so has accepted my friendship accordingly. I am also getting hold of a lot of old folk-lore from Donald, who, though grimly sceptical of certain traditions, holds others fast and firm. The Frasers are here, and have paid me one visit. I don't think they will trouble me much. Granny told me this morning that the pretty cottage at the top of our glen has just been taken by a single lady, a Miss Falconer. She is a connection of the Grants, Granny says. I don't know where she gets her information from! Our garden here is a dream. Colin is a good hard-working boy. Picture our herbaceous border a riot of pink and white and blue colour. The phloxes are luxuriant, so are the delphiniums. And our roses go on and on, blooming for ever! I lie here and enjoy nature, and I'm learning an awful lot about the birds and insects. Hugh Macdonald has quite adopted his child, and amuses me by his high ideas of training and education. She is too independent for him. He said to me the other day: 'But she's a girl—why is she so assertive, and so strong-willed and fearless?' I reminded him that our sex is that way inclined nowadays, and he must make the best of it. But he didn't see it. I think she wakes him up and keeps him lively. Anne has given up the charge of her rather unwillingly, but still keeps a motherly eye on her, and there is jealousy between her and his housekeeper." "This won't interest you. Oh, Ted, do you, from the depths of your heart, believe that I am going to be a sound member of humanity again? I am beginning to doubt it. My spinal cord has gone to smithereens! I can't sit up for five minutes without feeling it, and it makes me rant and roar against fate in general." "This is the lament of Brer Tarrypin 'Loungin' round an' sufferin'.' If you were to walk in at this moment, you would grin broadly, and tell me that I know how to do myself! For I'm in my green room with a cheerful wood fire. Bowls of flowers are everywhere, and an appetizing lunch of beef-tea and crisp toast has just appeared and I've written myself into a smiling humour again. My fits of depression don't last long. I'm as happy as I can be away from you all. Good-bye—a thousand kisses to the bunch of you." "ROWENA."