95 Sloane Street Wed. Dearest Mother. I am going to lecture on the 27th - it's a bore, but it's the only day Miss P. could arrange. I have sent you 8´ dozen penny tops, which is 10 less than you want. But pistols will make up the deficit. By the way, you say 130 children - I was counting only 110, perhaps I had better send another dozen. I suppose the surplus is infants.
Hugo is beaming with all his little friends here! as for Edward Howarth, what I feel about him is simply a blank. I can't recollect he's there or anything about him. Hence he is not in my way - or out of it, or anywhere. I went to the German play with Amy last night. It was a foolish but entertaining piece. After it I went on to a party at the Horners which was very pleasant. I knew most of the people there - except my host, but seeing a respectable party with a beard looking at me as though he expected to be recognised, I concluded that he must be Mr Horner and greeted him warmly. He asked affectionately after Father and told me he had stayed at Redcar. He's a nice old thing. I also had a long talk with Spencer Lyttelton about Sicily [Sicilia] - most satisfactory. He says February is just the month. Lady Lewis, Fred Benson, the Kochs, the Mackenzies, Phil Burne Jones - I forget who else. It was amusing anyhow.

I have sent Father his opera glasses. There is only one they recommend. I know them to be good as I have one and they seem cheap. At all events they are the cheapest they have got. I will see if I can pick up some elegant little objects for him. How many does he want?

I went to see Maud Grenfell today and felt very sorry for her. I Bellieve her mother is dying, very slowly, and Maud has been nursing her for 6 months. Mr Grenfell came in looking very very old and then an antediluvian aunt. I fled - it was like something in Ibsen. I dine with Mr Chirol. Ever your affectionate daughter Gertrude