From H. E. Litchfield to Leonard Darwin 11 August 1874

Dear Pouts,

We are here all alone so it is a golden opportunity for getting some letter writing done. I think we may conclude that now no more letters will be collecting for you but that you'll be there ahead of this; I don't mean to worry about mails but send my letters off when they get finished & not hurry up. I believe you'll have had a letter from William so you'll know that the house is all on again. There is still some hitch—but I believe they think it as good as settled— The parents seem to like it very much & Mother says she doesn't feel she ever could ever stand another holiday at Bassett.  We make our start this day week. I'm not in a very brilliant state of strength but I think I shall manage it all right. I shall have felt it most horridly provoking if after fixing it all up with the girls we'd had to put off—& moreover thew it wd have been all to do again—

It is could eno' here to to brace me up. I have to sit with a fire & windows shut. My life is the [hoigth] of peace & regularity. I take the dogs walking twice a day for which they are very grateful—the 2^nd walk always being to Orange Court Farm to meet R. & once a day I go to Aunt Eliz or she comes here for a read. I had a sort of hope that I shd have got on with a bit—but I have given it up. We don't find it hard to talk—but she never gets easy with me & I always feel that she is afraid of & doesn't care for my society—except that she is grateful for my trying to do what little I can for her—precious little it is—for my voice breaks down after 20 minutes reading. I felt a great wish for rest here for we'd had such a horrid week before. I found out my cook had gone [utterly] to the bad & had to be turned out at a moments notice—She went off pretty quietly—but I did feel so thankful to have had a man in the house. In fact when I'm a widow & have to turn a great strong woman out I'll always have a policeman ready. I'd sooner turn a man away—for you feel as if a woman was so much less civilized & might take to scratching you or breaking your china— It was a horrid thing to happen & has made me feel that there wd be a good deal to be said for Hotel life— We've been collecting a good many books to take abroad I daresay heaps too many, but in a rainy week one's comfort depends upon books & what is more important in the dry weeks one wants the consciousness they are there—moreover if I'm a sicky I shall have to make up my mind to Richard sacrificing me to the girls wh. will be very good for his health—but not very amusing for me. If I shd turn out to be pretty well we shall go over to Venice wh. would fulfil my dearest wish. I'm reading the Stories of Venice. I believe you'd like them only being a quarto it is next to impossible to know how to read it & lean back. I thk I shall take the little Mills.' Polit Econ. for my stiff book.

You can't think how deadly quiet this place is. The only signs of life are the horses in the field. If it wasn't for them it would look rather dreary—with the lawn thick with plantains—the walks unswept & the flowers scrawly & untidy—but the animal life quite redeems it. It has got into a very blowy frame of mind & I begin to squirm at our crossing next week. If this rain goes on, I'm afraid the wheat will begin to suffer. It is only tremendous slowness & a very high wind so the roads are nice & clean but it is eno' to prevent its ever being carried. I forget whether I told you before you went that Laurence has got thro' & now I hear he is getting his commission— We are going to have the girl up with us for a couple of months this autumn & my next letter must be to make all the final arrangements about her—

Goodbye dear Ponts— | your affect | H.E.L.

I hope Jemmy will come here next Sunday he went to Bassett last week. I hear a young swell has come to the work shop who put him down from his place of 2^nd. best man—but I'm very glad to hear he ever was 2^nd. best considering how little steady work he has ever had. I hope he'll come—as I shd like to have a quiet Sunday with us three— Cheap lodgings are a very nice institution—& the aged P. is very affable & we've quite a great deal of talk at dinner. Of course the house is all topsy turvy with no carpets down & no nothing—