_I wonder if you could manage to lend me £100? I know this sounds rather a large sum to want in my first term, but the fact is I seem to have spent rather more than I meant, and I had to borrow £75 from a man in my year. I bought one or two pictures for my rooms, and I also lost a bit at roulette one night at the House. I didn't really mean to play, but I couldn't very well sit looking on without seeming rude, because I had been dining with a House man. I lost more than I meant. I don't like to ask Father for the money because he'll jump to the conclusion that I'm gambling, which of course I need hardly say is not the case. If you could manage to get me out of rather an awkward hole just this once I promise not to run any risks again. Will you let me know as soon as you can about Whittington-Jones coming to us after Christmas and also about the £100? The extra £25 is for expenses during the vac. I shall have some tipping to do in Norfolk. If Father consults you about a present for me at Christmas, would you mind suggesting a check? It's awfully hard to choose a suitable present, though of course there are lots of things I should like for my rooms. But a check would really be more useful. I don't think there's much to tell you about Oxford. It's been very foggy there for the last few days._ _Your loving son, Geoffrey._ _My dear Mother_, _I'm sorry I have waited so long to answer your last letter, but we have been fearfully busy rehearsing for our Break-up. I am acting Gratiano in the trial scene from "The Merchant of Venice." Celia Wentworth, the girl who plays Shylock, is most dreadfully good. Miss Bewick considers her simply marvelous. She says that ever since she has been elocution mistress at the school she never has known such a good Shylock. I wonder if I could invite Celia to spend a few days with us during the Christmas holidays. She is fearfully keen to see some theaters, and we've made out a gorgeous list of things we're simply dying to see. Celia says that the way I play Gratiano helps her most frightfully, and Miss Bewick was tremendously complimentary. The blot on the performance is the Doge played by a girl I hate called Marjorie Lane. She simply won't learn her words, and at the first rehearsal without books she cut out all the middle of her long speech and said "the world thinks and I think so too, we all expect a gentle answer, Jew." You should have seen Miss Bewick's face. Of course we all snorted like anything, and Marjorie could only sit there and giggle in that affected way she does. Celia says she hopes she won't do that on the afternoon of Break-up, because the audience is sure to laugh, and Celia thinks it may spoil her performance. I hope you and Father are going to turn up in force, and when you come do please invite Celia to stay with us in January._ _Your loving daughter, Muriel._