Howards End HTML version

and Mrs. Wilcox was already in the garden. She evidently loves it. No
wonder she sometimes looks tired. She was watching the large red pop-
pies come out. Then she walked off the lawn to the meadow, whose
corner to the right I can just see. Trail, trail, went her long dress over the
sopping grass, and she came back with her hands full of the hay that was
cut yesterdayÑ I suppose for rabbits or something, as she kept on
smelling it. The air here is delicious. Later on I heard the noise of croquet
balls, and looked out again, and it was Charles Wilcox practising; they
are keen on all games. Presently he started sneezing and had to stop.
Then I hear more clicketing, and it is Mr. Wilcox practising, and then, 'a-
tissue, a-tissue': he has to stop too. Then Evie comes out, and does some
calisthenic exercises on a machine that is tacked on to a green-gage-
treeÑ they put everything to useÑand then she says 'a-tissue,' and in
she goes. And finally Mrs. Wilcox reappears, trail, trail, still smelling hay
and looking at the flowers. I inflict all this on you because once you said
that life is sometimes life and sometimes only a drama, and one must
learn to distinguish tother from which, and up to now I have always put
that down as 'Meg's clever nonsense.' But this morning, it really does
seem not life but a play, and it did amuse me enormously to watch the
W's. Now Mrs. Wilcox has come in.
"I am going to wear [omission]. Last night Mrs. Wilcox wore an
[omission], and Evie [omission]. So it isn't exactly a go-as-you-please
place, and if you shut your eyes it still seems the wiggly hotel that we ex-
pected. Not if you open them. The dog-roses are too sweet. There is a
great hedge of them over the lawnÑmagnificently tall, so that they fall
down in garlands, and nice and thin at the bottom, so that you can see
ducks through it and a cow. These belong to the farm, which is the only
house near us. There goes the breakfast gong. Much love. Modified love
to Tibby. Love to Aunt Juley; how good of her to come and keep you
company, but what a bore. Burn this. Will write again Thursday.
Howards End Friday
"Dearest Meg,
"I am having a glorious time. I like them all. Mrs. Wilcox, if quieter
than in Germany, is sweeter than ever, and I never saw anything like her
steady unselfishness, and the best of it is that the others do not take ad-
vantage of her. They are the very happiest, jolliest family that you can
imagine. I do really feel that we are making friends. The fun of it is that
they think me a noodle, and say soÑat least, Mr. Wilcox doesÑand
when that happens, and one doesn't mind, it's a pretty sure test, isn't it?