From H. E. Darwin to Emma Darwin 4 October [1870]

Dearest Mother—

I enclose a letter—so it is to be [other] way—as he is the g^t.est stranger— Isn't it aggravating about our old weather—not but what I'm not having prime amusement with the Lushingtons. They've turned to be so wonderfully cordial & sociable we really are together $\frac{1}{2}$ the day which is v. nice for us & m. than I expected  I sh^d. have thought that considering their busy life in London & considering their devotion t each other they'd have wanted this to be a honeymoon. I like him extremely— He is salted with tht salt of frivolity wh. everybody ought to have—& tht is where I find the difference betw. the two Godfrey & V. He doesn't pull in his horses when u shock him—but laughs & forgives you. I daresay this is a virtue acquired by having married a wicked wife. She says it is astonishing she stops in depravity he has made here at [Glion] wh. she attributes entirely to our demoralising influence— She says it is a great advance tht he will tolerate all the nicknames we give the pensionnaires—hitherto tht has always been a capital crime. He seems to me pretty far gone in [Conlism] but spite of having bought that great book I don't feel confidence eno' to cross examine him as I sh^d. like. It takes such a deal of pluck to talk about the things one wants to hear about—& presence of mind note to sputter—& then M^rs. V. will break in—""Vernon you must say tht to me—I won't have all ur intelligent remarks made to Miss D. ""He is also a trades unionist & as he is v. goodnatured & ready to talk I feel as if I ought to get some lights there too. I thk I told u tht M^rs. V. played to us one day—no I remember it was to Hope— Oh such a touch [peach]—silver—drops of water—no words can express the roundness clearness flowingness—we ⁠⟨⁠⁠⟨⁠heard⁠⟩⁠⁠⟩⁠ it just after a man had been making a fiendlike row—the overture to William Tell again, played with iron fingers which punished the poor little piano w tht extent quite felt one's own bones were vibrating with sympathy for its bone. He finished with a wild bang & left the room M^rs. V. rushed to piano & played us delicious little soft meandering things ending with last movement out Waldstein? C. Sonata [Beet]. Today she was talking about music at breakfast & she said Oh you must hear my sister Mary & me play (The grammar of this sentence has [jibbed]) the Scotch symphony. I always say when we play that everybody must say it is delicious. She & her sister arrange all their duets themselves. Tomorrow she has promised to play with Mad^lle. [Zangenberger] so she says we must none of us send her to [Eupa] in the meantime [(vide] George's letter.) The result of all this is I read nothing—whenever I'm not working with them I'm sitting with them. Elinor didn't manage the walk to Chernet—but we all went down to Montreux together yesterday. Today there is no going anywhere. If it is goes on thus we shall flee when they say they must go—about Wednesday I believe—& go to Rheims & perhaps another town or so en route. Tell me about the Hookers & Grays. Elinor is willing to shorten for a day or two—& of course if this weather goes on m. willing—so keep [mi] [an] [fait] as to dates. I'm so sorry about poor little Harry— I ⁠⟨⁠⁠⟨⁠thk⁠⟩⁠⁠⟩⁠ it will be too hard if the little flower of the flock fails & half kill M^rs. [Hue]. I hope tht doesn't mean tht there is fear of water on the brain—but an illness that will pass away. I'm so surprised he remembered [""Ialioli]"". Byron's life makes me rather sick— He was such a poor creature—only exceeded in poorness in Moore— There is a nasty taste about the book—& I'm shocked to see I'm not nearly at the end of it. I daresay I shall have read all the dull & disagreeable & missed all the pleasant— I can't read too m. of Emerson for fear I sh^d. fly off altogether. I feel too stupid to write any more so this must go so— My solace this morning has not been the english service but a little cat wh. the Portier said I might have in my own room & wh. warmed my heart by the sound of ⁠⟨⁠⁠⟨⁠its⁠⟩⁠⁠⟩⁠ purs. [how] strange [⁠⟨⁠⁠⟨⁠]⁠⟩⁠⁠⟩⁠ my bereaved ears—

⁠⟨⁠⁠⟨⁠Goodbye⁠⟩⁠⁠⟩⁠ dear Mother ⁠⟨⁠⁠⟨⁠yrs⁠⟩⁠⁠⟩⁠ H E.D.