Sat. Dearest Mother. I am telegraphing to you to say that I will propose myself to the Wards till Saturday. I feel rather inclined to come home on Saturday, if it will suit you, not going to R'ton [Rounton] as Elsa suggests, but perhaps I might leave that open for the moment. It rains here persistently. We tried to go for a picnic yesterday, but about 3 miles from home we were caught in a violent storm and had to turn back. We came home and eat our sandwiches gaily in the dining room. It rained all the afternoon, but after tea we pounded out in streaming rain through the forest. The FitzGeralds have arrived - she's a tedious woman rather. I like him - rather! She hates dogs and as there are 3 of them always scrimmaging round, she must be pleased! (Tell Elsa I'm enchanted to hear of the puppy, by the bye!) Yesterday at dinner, whether because of the wettings I don't know, I felt bad and retired hastily lest I should faint. However I shortly recovered and came down again. I feel indifferent well today.
It's still raining, but looks as though it might clear presently. I wonder if Hugo has returned. Ever your affectionate daughter Gertrude

My love to Lisa - where is she?