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Welcombe, Stratford on Avon. - Glad to get Elizabeth's card and find she was out again; she must take care of herself; glad the weather has improved. Herbert Paul, Theodore [Llewelyn Davies], and Mr [J. W.] Mackail are staying with them; Mrs Paul and Mrs Mackail are ill. They make an 'amusing trio, & the talk is very good'. Hopes the Booths will reach Ravello soon; Theodore has seen some of the family and thinks Charles plays to stay at Ravello with Meg for a while; he will be good company, but they 'must not let him convert [them] to Protection[ism]!'. Very pleased by the North Dorset [by-]election; thinks the country is 'heartily sick of the Tories' but that they will keep hold of office for 'some time longer'. Sir George does not know Mr [Thomas Stewart] Omond, but he seems to have written many things as well as his book on [poetic] metres. She and Booa [Mary Prestwich] are pleased the shoes fit Elizabeth. Planning to go to London on 16 February.

Wallington, Cambo, Northumberland. - Glad to hear that 'the contributions to [Elizabeth's] commissariat turned out well'. Amused to think of her playing croquet at the Rectory. They have had a quiet week, with only George there as Charles has been 'away shooting and visiting'. The Archbishop of York and his wife are coming today 'which amuses us much', as well as Miss Dalrymple, Dorothy Ward and Carr Bosanquet. The [Herbert?] Pauls and Theo [Llewelyn?] Davies are coming tomorrow, so they will be 'quite gay till Monday'. [Sir George's] elbow is much better; he is reading her a 'most amusing novel by Bernard Shaw... discovered in a Socialist magazine called The Corner'. Will be in London on 9 Oct and hopes to come and see them; asks whether she should stay the night. Booa [Mary Prestwich] is 'rather envious of the blackberries' are there are none in Northumberland. Sure Elizabeth will 'think Pinewood [the Knutsfords' home] very pretty'.

Refers to Nora's letter of two days previously, which was of intense interest to her. Says she has been absorbed by Henry Sidgwick: a Memoir, and suggests that in addition to the biography and letters, people who knew Henry could each write down an account of a memorable conversation with him. States that she is 'rather anxious, also busy' at present, but undertakes to try 'to join some memories with [her] sisters' [memories.' Expresses the hope that she and Nora may meet; says that if her husband could stay with Nora she would 'make out a promised visit to a friend at Cambridge'. Says that questions about [the living's] connection with the dead, in their moral aspects as viewed by Henry, have pressed on her lately. Thinks that she and her husband will come to Nora in May, and hopes that it will not be any inconvenience to her to receive her husband; say she is to go to the Donaldsons at Magdalene. Thanks her for the gift of the book.

Has only just finished reading Henry Sidgwick: a Memoir; explains that they [she and her husband?] went abroad in March. States that as a biography it is 'vividly interesting from the first page to the last....' Remarks on the strong sense the letters 'unconsciously give of the expansion and development of [Henry's] life'. Refers to his attainment of a fellowship and the establishment of Newnham College, and describes his marriage as 'the crown to the perfecting of his life.' Refers also to how nobly he met his fate. Relates that they used to call him Socrates. Invites Nora to come to spend a day with them at Wych Cross during the holidays. Speaks of Henry's conversational gifts, and declares that she liked Leslie Stephens' and Mr Bryce's accounts of 'his talk'. States, however, that she and her sisters feel that the 'irrecoverableness' of the charm of Henry's conversation 'is not ever guessed in the letters.' Refers also to his recitation of poetry, and claims that his talk 'was the expression of his whole being....' Claims that she can think of six men - including her brother [Richmond] Ritchie - 'who can none of them at all tolerate each other, who all lay down their arms and speak with unqualified and enthusiastic admiration of [Henry]'. Hopes that they may meet before long.

Hôtel Floresta, Taormina [headed notepaper]:- His mother’s news about George was a ‘great surprize’ to him: is sure George is ‘doing the wise thing in going to Madeira’, and hopes that on his return he ‘will be himself again, and ready for his tripos’; supposes George is ‘so far forward, that the loss of a month or so will not be serious’. Now remembers that George ‘did not seem particularly bright at Welcombe’. Hopes the ‘Spanish Got has not ordered a quarantine at Madeira for Cholera’: almost every year it is ‘seized with a senseless panic, and most absurdly compells all visitors to wait some weeks before landing’; since Cape liners cannot wait, passengers have to go onto the Cape or be ‘transferred to some ship returning to England’.

There was a case in Robert’s Chambers in which a ‘miserable traveller sued the Castle Line (Donald Currie’s) for breach of contract to land him at Madeira’; Chambers were acting for the company, and [T. E.] Scrutton thought there was no case, but Robert ‘rummaged up a rusty old case of Commonwealth times - something about a tenant refusing to pay rent because Prince Rupert and an “ungodly company of horse” had cut down his fruit-trees’, with which the ‘poor traveller’ was ‘confounded’, and Robert ‘gained great éclat for it was a very subtle point of law’. Sir Michael Hicks Beach was ‘shipped to the Cape in like manner’ a few years ago, instead of Madeira, but he was ‘patient and did not sue’. Hopes George does not suffer this fate.

Wishes he had wanted to come to Taormina, but perhaps he is right: the ‘Cacciola library consists partly of Hallington books, but the greater number, and many of the more valuable ones, have been ordered by Louisa or her [Florence Cacciola] and sent out from England’. Is ‘nearly siroccoed out of existence’: the wind has blown continuously for five days, for the last day or two bringing ‘a slow drizzle, and muffling in a mist as impenetrable as a London fog’. The weather should change soon, as it ‘usually lasts only 3 or 4 days’; everyone is ‘more or less seedy, and in the sullens’. Two Roman Catholic priests from Oxford are here; one, ‘a [Charles David?] Williamson is a delightful creature’, and they have become friends. Williamson ‘seems to have met the Herbert Pauls at Venice last year’, having known Herbert well at Eton but then not seen him; now they seem to be ‘great friends again’. Williamson says Herbert Paul ‘doesn’t at all like being out [of Parliament’.

Hope C[harles] will ‘get on the School-Board’. Is ‘very glad to hear that his father has begun writing: ‘“Our Unhappy politics”, as Shelley calls them, are not worth wasting time and trouble over just now’. Hopes ‘[John?] Dillon will do well, but his prospects are not bright’; supposes ‘[Thomas] Sexton could not accept’, yet his conduct resembles ‘Achilles sulking in his tent without sufficient reason’. Robert’s new friend Williamson is ‘very intimate with Dillon and the Matthews [a reference to the Mathews, family of Dillon’s wife Elizabeth?]’

Reports his recent return from Rome, where his wife was nursing her sister Nelly. Expresses his delight (and that of his wife) at the news of Sidgwick's [honorary] fellowship at Trinity College. Explains that they are staying at Eton until the end of August and asks him whether he could come to see them at the end of his term. States that two things 'have given [him] great pleasure lately', one being 'the unmasking of Fremde in the papers, and the other being [Myers?]'s Wordsworth, which he just read, and which seems to him 'admirable as a piece of criticism'.