So far as I can gather he is a decent young fellow and he may be on my side—but he doesn’t come and see me and it seems rather absurd to go to see him. The new soldier, and especially when he flies, is not to be found at home too easily! This one seems to be the usual enfranchised public-school boy—to whom the wonders and mysteries of life are either top-hole or incomprehensible, or both, and an eclipse of the sun would be merely a “solar stunt.” Even if Josey had her foolish way I don’t suppose that the end of the world would arrive, but it would be sad and disappointing and I am certain that she would very quickly regret her impetuosity.—Yours as ever, THEO. _P.S._—All this about me and mine and nothing of your trouble. Dear old V. I do so hope that you are mending. I must come and see you and the old home soon. It will be a dreadful thought some day—how one postpones these necessary acts! LV NESTA ROSSITER TO RICHARD HAVEN DEAR “UNCLE” RICHARD,—I wonder if you could possibly come down, if only for a night, to see Aunt Verena. She really needs a good talk with some one sensible and frank. We all do our best but we are not sufficient. It is very bad, I am sure, for a naturally active woman such as she is to be forced to lie still in this way. She has even begun to talk about the extent to which complete invalidism should be endured, how fair it is to the community to be a deadweight, and so on. So if you could manage even a flying visit it would be a great relief to us all and a great comfort to her.—I am, yours sincerely, NESTA LVI RICHARD HAVEN TO NESTA ROSSITER DEAR NESTA, it is impossible, I fear, for a week or so. But I will come then, although only for a night.—Yours, R. H. LVII VERENA RABY TO RICHARD HAVEN DEAR RICHARD,—I am very unhappy. I do not get any better and I am a deadweight. I want to arrange my affairs and I have no adviser but you. I cannot bear to be an imposition on others, even when they assume the burden so smilingly. The kindness of people to people is far more extraordinary than their unkindness, I think. If I were to take an overdose, should I also be “of unsound mind?”—Your very dependent and despondent V. LVIII RICHARD HAVEN TO VERENA RABY [_Telegram_] Coming by 2.35 for night. R. H. LIX VERENA RABY TO RICHARD HAVEN [_By hand_] DEAREST RICHARD—Just a line to say goodbye and to thank you for coming down. It is monstrous to ask you to come so far for such a short time. I feel much more serene and shall now be brave again. I hope you will have an easy journey.