LXXXIV
Roy Barrance to Verona Raby
Dear Aunt Verena,—You must not think I’m just a mere rotter when I tell you that Stella and I have parted. I know it looks silly to be in love with different girls so often, but then how is one to discover which is the real one unless one tries? Besides, at the time each is the only one. I liked Stella in many ways and I like her still, but I can see that we are not perfectly suited. Her nature makes her pick up new friends, chiefly men, too easily. My nature is not like that—I want one and one only. Although of course all this is Greek to you, perhaps you can sympathize.
Margot is much more like me and she shares my keenness for the country. Stella hated being away from London or excitement, while Margot loves walking among the heather and all that sort of thing. She knows a fearful lot about natural history too, and only yesterday, when we were on Box Hill, she corrected me when I said “There goes a wood-pigeon” because it was really a ring-dove. Pretty good, that, for a girl!
Don’t think I am flirting with her, because it would be no use as she doesn’t intend ever to marry, but I find her an A.1. pal and she is teaching me lots of things and making me much more observant. You would like her, I’m sure. Her father is a retired brewer with oceans of Bradburies, who wants her to marry a cousin.—Your affectionate nephew,
Roy
P.S.—By the way, I saw Josey the other night at the Ritz, with a very gay party. She is the prettiest little thing.