Madras, Nov. 26, 1929.Dear Abby:
We are still dazed over Miss Smith's death. In spite of all the letters from Katie Wilcox, I still feel as if I were in a dream. I am afraid she had much less strength than we thought but I can hardly bring myself to wish that she had had less spirit and zest - that was so much a part of her and such a delightful thing to have. In many respects her end was ideal and what we all might wish for ourselves. But it is hard to resign myself to the idea that she will not be here in Madras with us and that she will not be our companion on our holiday trips. We had a motor trip planned for this week end, to Madanapalle, where two of Helen Te Winkel's aunts live. My plans for the next seven or eight months were so closely bound up with Miss Smith's that I do not like to look forward. I am not sure yet about our Christmas trip to Travancan; Edith and I would rather give it up, but I don't know about Miss Cosmey who is the fourth member of our party. She will probably want to go as she is leaving in April and this will be her last chance. We have not talked about it with her.
It has been very hard for Edith: all her spare time this year has been devoted to planning for Miss Smith and she has been looking forward to Miss Smith's visit for so long that it does seem very hard to have missed it entirely. We are so thankful that Miss Smith got to Madura and had such a happy time there. It might have been so much worse. It was a beautiful end. But I do feel as if the bottom had dropped out of the world. I know it has been a dreadful blow to you. Doesn't it make you feel cold and limp? I haven't known Miss Smith as you have but I have always loved and admired her and I am finding it a hard blow.
Edith and I are going to Chittoor this week end. She needs to get away very much and I hope this will be the thing for her. Her friend Charlotte Wyckoff is there (she will be away Saturday but we can sleep or walk) and I think it will do her good to get away.
I went to a concert given by the Madras Musical Association last night - an orchestra concert with a soprano soloist, all Madras talent. Miss MacDougall remarked that the orchestra was made up from "His Excellency's band." His Excellency, Sir Arthur Stanley, the new governor of the Madras Presidency was there with his wife. When he came in we all stood up and the orchestra played "God Save the King." We stood again when he left. The concert was good but can't be judged by professional standards - not like Boston or Detroit or Philadelphia. We have very little or no professional music but the amateurs do a good deal. We have a chorus (I sing in it; no testing of voices!), and are preparing to give "The Pied Piper of Hamelin" in December, I think it dull, dramatic but not musical. The music is by C.H.H. Parry. I feel as if it was a waste of time and I hate to protect my part, which I really need to do.
We are having beautiful weather now. It was down to 70° this morning and one felt almost chilly. It is clear and fresh, when it isn't raining. The rains are well distributed. So is the mold. I never saw so much or on so many things. We have no fireplace, or any means of drying things except to put them in the sun. The monson [sic] season is usually over by December. We have had our quota and there will be no danger of a drought.
With much love,
Alma.