[10 February 1926] Baghdad Feb 10. My darling step-mother and father. I am writing to you with the heaviest of hearts. You will have realized by now from my letters that I was away at Ur when your telegram came. I found it yesterday afternoon when I came back to my house. I had already read in the office your letter, Father of Jan 27, which gave me a horrible anxiety, but it ended on a better note and when I saw a telegram lying on my table I thought at once that it was to say that there was definite improvement. My dearest ones, it is so dreadful to think of what you have gone through and of you sorrow now. It is that which blots out everything else and, whatever I may be doing, it comes stabbing like a sharp sword. I can't find words to write. I feel as if I had been through it all twice, once when I thought he was gone and now that I know he has gone. But even though it has been such a long and terrible fight, I'm glad that he saw you and had the comfort of being back with you.
Poor, poor Frances. I'm not writing to her this week, but will you tell her how much I love and admire her through your letters and through the one she wrote to me. I don't yet realize it all quite clearly. After feeling quite sure that he was going to get better, it has been such a sudden shock which leaves one with a dull sense of pain and the sharp ache for both of you and for Frances. I wonder if she and the two little boys are with you and I hope they are.

I've just read again the letter Frances wrote to me on the 6th of January and I must write to her, poor darling. I will put the letter inside this one and you will send it to her.

The week I was away seems all blurred now. Lionel and I spent three very pleasant days at Ur and stopped on our way back to go out to the great Warka [Erech (Uruk)] mound. We took Mr Legrain, the very charming cuneiform man of the Ur expedition, with us. We stopped a day at Hillah [Hillah, Al], meaning to go out to Kish, but the rain came down on us in torrents and we had to satisfy ourselves with a useful morning at Babylon, seeing the things in the German house which have to be taken away. We read a great deal of Dante at odd moments. Lionel is the vaguest of travellers and what he does when he is by himself I can't think. He never seems to make any arrangements for having breakfast or necessary things like that. He admitted that he was much more comfortable when he travelled with me and found breakfast turn up when wanted. I missed J.M. Wilson with whom I had been accustomed to do these tours and felt I had to depend on myself much more than when I had him with me. When it comes to dividing the things, I don't think Lionel will be very helpful and J.M. so eminently was.

Dearest Mother, I'm going to address this letter to you. I know now how dreadfully anxious you must have been when you wrote so bravely on Jan 26. It's I now who am anxious about you and Father. Ever your very loving daughter Gertrude.