16 Vicars Close, Wells.
October 9, 1929.
Dearest Abby:-
Where did I leave off in my mad career? I have not told you, I think, how Tewkesbury thrilled me. The timbered houses, the funny little alleys, that dear abbey, with the old yard and its avenue of yews, quite red with the little waxy berries. The glass in the abbey did not seem to me so wonderful as the windows here. The golden window and those made from pieces of the ancient glass seem to me to have a luminous quality that is remarkable. I had lunch in Tewkesbury at the ancient Grudge, a tiny place with an enormous old fireplace. I am enclosing as a reminder, a photo of one of the alleys.
There was a war memorial, rather a monuent to an officer man [than] the entrance to the abbey-yard, with this inscription "Love's strength standeth in love's sacrifice" Remember?
Well, I left the new Inn Tuesday morning and came by bus to Bristol, then on to Wells, also by bus. An easy way to travel but my bag is heavy! Miss Wall tells me that I am able to stay here because the students are away on vacation. A group of women are in retreat here just now, under pledge of silence. A few are in this house. But I am either too good or too evil to associate with the rest of the house. My meals are served in solitary state in the sitting room. I have that room by myself, practically. And there is a grate fire in it!
It is snappy cold here today. I went to Glastonbury this morning and it was almost uncomfortable walking about on the damp ground. But it is an impressive ruin, isn't it? I wish I had the background of history and art to appreciate these things more.
I found your letter and the two packages of papers from you when I got here - my first mail since Liverpool. You are so good to write so much & I love the papers, but don't send them for the stamps do count up. I have read the news from beginning to end and enjoyed it.
I found a letter from Miss Randolph enclosing a draft for $5.00. Now would not that make you feel all mixed up? Why did she do it? I shall write her soon. A letter from Cook today says that the Lancashire sails at seven o'clock on Friday, Oct. 18. I can go on board at 5. Also a letter from Mrs. Young, Edgar House, Chester, promises me a room from Sat. of this week until Wednesday Oct. 16. It is so cold everywhere that I think I would better settle down somewhere instead of doing strenuous sight seeing. I have so far avoided a cold, but people about me are sneezing and coughing as at home at this season.
Oct. 10 - Miss Wall is certainly a dear. She made me a little call last night and this morning took me to see a charming Miss Cross who does wonderful illuminating. She studies the old manuscripts for quotations & designs and does such beautiful work reproducing them. I wanted to buy a lot of it, but it is very expensive, of course. I got a card for Miss MacDougall, for Christmas. Wells fascinates me as no other cathedral town that I have seen. Yesterday thanks to Miss Wall's suggestion, I went through the Bishop's gardens and enjoyed the beauty of it. The drawbridge, the moat, the swans that pull the bell when they are hungry, &c. The gardens don't excite me, but of course it is late. The crysanthemums are beautiful and the anemones & the fall asters. I love the red berries of the hawthorne. I have seen a great deal of wild clematis covering the walls, as I rode along in the buses. Isn't it queer to see no neglected areas in England, every inch under cultivation or pasturage.
The paternal supervision of traffic exercised by the bus drivers interests me. If an auto comes up behind the bus and the road is clear, the car is invited to pass by an encouraging gesture of the driver's hand thrust out of the bus window. If the road is not clear ahead, the driver makes a discouraging gesture from the window. But the traffic is so simple compared with our congestion.
This afternoon I am going to have a fire in my room & devote the time to mending and writing. I am struggling with the thank you cards for my steamer letters. People were so dear to me. Over forty letters or packages. That dear Charlotte Haywood sent me a letter & little pencil.
Goodby for this time and my love, whole heaps of it. S. E. S.
Love to inquiring friends.