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To Wells Rise
My darling,
It was a relief to hear your voice when we rang up today in spite of the fact that you obviously have a very bad cold indeed: not surprising since it has had no treatment, or very bad treatment since you caught it. It makes me think I should have stayed with you and let the family come here alone. I might then have relieved you of some of it. But it's no good regretting it now.
I rang up last night as arranged and caught a proper packet of woe from your mother. She seemed to feel all was lost, if one may use so ludicrously cheerful an expression. I felt from her report that there was every chance of your getting pneumonia through sheer neglect of yourself. To make matters worse I knew it would be unlikely that you would tell me much about yourself, except that you were “all right”.
At present we plan to come back on Wednesday … I hope by then to be able to look after you and to be allowed to do so: I do not want you to slave yourself into such a state that you could not possibly help hating me and all my works. I hope to hear when you ring up tonight that you will at least have no more travelling after today. I assume of course that things have been made as difficult as they could very well be by your being so wretchedly ill you could hardly think.
10 p.m. I had hoped you would ring up before this as it is worrying that you are working so appallingly late. I find it hard to settle to anything when I do not know how things are going with you. Still I should be pretty used to having to think clearly no matter what the distractions may be. I am used to it. But I don't feel more skilful at it.
Nor, I imagine, is your job made any more tolerable by the feeling that the move is also the end of our family's first home; still, what can't be cured must be endured.
You have just rung up and you can't imagine what a relief it was to hear you; I even began to imagine you sounded a bit less wretched. It is not that I feel worried about anything – I just feel w