Aug. 19, 1916.
Dear Mary,-
I enjoyed your fine long letter so much and appreciated your little note. I wish that I could see you and tell you all about it, but pen and ink somehow do not seem adequate. Our little son arrived on Saturday evening, a nice little web-footed sailor the doctor called him. He cried most lustily and seemed to be just fine. When put to bed he sucked his fists contentedly, and wasn't that a long night! I was so eager for Frederick to arrive in the morning and say what he thought of him. And of course he was delighted. The baby was awake and looked at him. He had not been dressed. And that was when the trouble began. Right after his bath he was taken sick and suffered almost constantly for three days and nights. Oh, Mary, he was so cunning! It seems to me no other baby could ever be half so sweet. It was very hard for me to lie there in bed and not be able to see him and to hear him cry and not be able to do anything for him. But I learned something of what a loving sacrifice and service would be if he could only recover so that I could take care of him.
Sometimes you wonder if our lives are all planned out for us. I am not really fatalist enough to believe that, but if we have any strength of mind we can take the experiences and sorrows that come to us and make them a strengthening and uplifting influence on our character.
I was much shocked today to learn from the paper of the death of Mrs. Frank Page daughter-in-law of the Ambassador - twenty-five years old and five weeks married. How terrible that does seem for all concerned. I am getting disturbed about Elizabeth Smith. The last I heard she was quarantined at the Seaside Home where there had been a case of the dreadful disease. Whether there have been more I do not know.
Did you know that Grace Calhoun is to teach in Baltimore next year. I am certainly very glad indeed. Don't you think if you saved your money you could spend either Xmas or spring vacation with us? We have a nice little bungalo [sic] and plenty of room. I hope we can have some company this next year, and Frederick has long hours and has to study evenings, and I shall be lonely without my baby.
I get lonely now and nervous, too, I regret to say, because I can do so little. I can walk as far as the corner of the street, go over the stairs once or maybe twice in 24 hours, wipe dishes if I sit down, sew a little and of course read. But I need to be really distracted to regain my equilibrium. However, I am gaining fast and soon shall be able to do more. I think Frederick will be home for most of September and we shall go into our house in Annapolis the first of October.
You were very ambitious last winter, Mary. You must have enjoyed the many things you saw and heard. How do you pronounce the name of the professor in the University whom you studied under. I did not know many of the plays you mentioned. I read Meredith's The Egoist this summer and was not carried away with it. I was not feeling very well when I read it and I suppose much of its subtle humor escaped me. However it did certainly contain some good character analysis and delineation.
We are not very up to date I know, but we read David Copperfield aloud this winter and have never enjoyed anything more. The first part of it is more melancholy and slightly gloomy but the rest is fine. I also greatly enjoyed Jane Austen's Emma. At present I am reading The Newcomes but when I shall finish I cannot tell you. It is so long.
You must please write me oftener next year. Be sure to tell me all about your modern English novels. Perhaps I can read some of them when you do. If Frederick studies evenings he wants me to sit with him so I intend to do some reading at least that will amount to something. When we go to Columbia I hope to take one good course at least and maybe able to do some reading to prepare for it this year. We shall have to be systematic this next year, but we didn't have to be in Portland. We enjoyed ourselves but didn't accomplish so much.
Do tell me your candid opinion of Ibsen. I enjoyed Pavlova - had never known before that dancing could mean so much.
It is so warm this afternoon I can't keep my thoughts collected for long at a time. Perhaps I can do better next time.
Amy and Dwight are already established at Annapolis, have an auto and a lovely house. But there is now a case of infantile paralysis in the next house and Amy has taken the children and gone home to Washington to stay. I don't blame her but it is too bad she has to leave now when they were having such a good time.
I hope you are enjoying the summer. How are the other members of your family? Do write to me soon.
With much love,
Beatrice.