C/O Mrs Clive
Brympton D’Evercy
Somersetshire
Sunday Aug. 1st 1937.
Dear Daddy,
Here we are after a journey of nearly four hours!! I suppose it was on account of the holiday that the trains were so bad yesterday, but I understand that it is never easy to travel from Yeovil to Bath.
The Garden Party was a great success, and Mrs Clive was so pleased when it was over. She says she can work in the garden from dawn until dark without feeling tired, but being sociable just leaves her whacked. She looked very fine in a black net frock edged with white ruffs at the wrists and neck, and reaching to the ground. Mimsie said “Mrs Clive’s frock is a scream. I’m sure she gets her clothes out of a rag bag. It must be at least 100 years old, in fact I’m sure now I look at it more carefully, and that it the self-same dress she wore last year”. As a matter of fact I thought she looked very nice, but not at all dressy like her guests.
Mim was very sweet to me – in fact made use of my arm the whole afternoon. She said nice things about Michael, and told me about the Christening. She has not changed much, but told me that I had. I told her that one does change between the ages of 12 and 31. However, I gather that I have improved as she asked me to write to her and give my address. I had very little chance to speak to Mrs Roper, who, poor soul is in bad trouble again.
Her daughter-in-law, Diana, was involved in a bad car smash outside Bridport the day before. She was with her own mother and baby. I do not know what happened but the baby is safe, though poor Diana lies seriously injured in Bridport Hospital. Her arm is so badly injured that they cannot say for some weeks whether or not they can save it. Only the bare bone is left – all the muscle and flesh has been torn away. She went under the car and was dragged along. The poor girl is under morphia all the time and Geoffrey is frantic of course. They can do nothing but wait. Poor Mrs Roper! She adores Diana. She was nearly in tears when she told me, and she was only at the party because she had promised to bring friends and she could do nothing if she stayed at home. Mrs Clive, who has implicit faith in the curse (i.e. the “Curse of the Abbeys”, Mrs Roper having inherited Forde Abbey from an uncle), said to me – “Of course it was meant for the baby”. I gathered that it was in saving her baby that she got injured, but I could not ask the poor soul any questions and Mrs Clive scarcely saw her as there were over 130 guests to be attended to.
Your loving daughter,
Veronica
