Sep 7

Dearest Mother. I am sending you a brace of partridges; Maurice and I shot them yesterday. I just had time to catch my train on Friday and got home feeling very ragged. A quiet day yesterday has made me feel better. M and I went over to Violet at tea time – farmers’ garden party, the last of Tom’s festivities. It was so happy and charming. We dined at Arncliffe, very pleasant and I’m going to spend the afternoon with Florence today.

I don’t think my ship will leave before the 18th but it seems that the heavy luggage must be ready 2 or 3 days before. I’m writing to Carter Patteson about it today. If possible I should like to stay here till Sunday or even Monday morning, so as to get a few really peaceful days here before I leave; but if the luggage has to be ready earlier, I would come up on Wed or Thurs to 95.

It’s preposterous to make such a fuss about being tired, but it’s not entirely imagination for I weighed myself yesterday on Father’s weigher and found I had lost 4lbs in the last 10 days. The ridiculous part of it is that I’m perfectly well and sleep like a top. But I would really rather like to keep quiet for a day or two and Maurice is always the most soothing companion.

The India Office writes to me today that they want me to do the official report of the whole Mesopotamia administration as soon as I get back to Baghdad – for publication. A job I shall like. I sent you some photographs.

Your very affectionate daughter

Gertrude