Meanwhile there is every sign of the coming winter here. Falling leaves everywhere.—Good night, R. H. CLIII VERENA RABY TO RICHARD HAVEN DEAREST RICHARD,—Forgive me for not answering sooner, but serious things have been happening. I am entirely with you about the Civil List. I cannot believe that the superfluity of the estate could be devoted to any better purpose and I am arranging it at once. But there is not the urgency that there was, because _I’m going to get better_. Mr. Field found something pressing somewhere and removed it and I am already able to stand. Think of that! He says that all I need now is to get some bracing change of air and lose the weakness that comes of lying down so long. And to think that once I was grumbling to you about his coming here at all! We never recognise, until after, the messengers of the friendly gods. It is really a kind of miracle and I’m so sorry about dear old Dr. Ferguson, who was always, although the kindest thing on earth, a little gloomy and pessimistic about me, and who will, although pleased—because his heart is gold—be also a little displeased, by the younger man’s triumph—because his heart is human as well. That is all, to-day, but when I tell you that I am writing this at my desk in my bedroom—the first letter to any one under such novel and wonderful conditions—you have got to be very happy and drink my health. And now I half want not to get well because I shall miss all my kind friends’ kindnesses and solicitous little acts.—Your very grateful V. _P.S._—You must not any longer be at the pains of writing to me so often, and I cannot allow you to be at the expense of Clemency any more. I am now (alas!) independent of all these kind amenities; and my dear Nesta goes home to-morrow. I have kept her too long from her home. I shall feel lost indeed, and am wondering if health is worth such a breakup. CLIV RICHARD HAVEN TO VERENA RABY [_Telegram_] Although it is forty shillings a bottle I drink champagne to-night. CLV RICHARD HAVEN TO VERENA RABY