Hedrington Hall North Hants Monday 24th of May 1920 Dear Mr. Goodfellow, Well, I took it upon myself to call on you this afternoon. This time I waited until after lunch before I stepped out. I must confess I found the walk easier this time. Perhaps the day was less warm, or perhaps my body is accustoming itself to this unusual exercise but I marched directly to the entrance of your land. It was only there that I paused, for whilst it is hard to believe, it appears that your verges are even more hideously overgrown than before. The path had shrunk down to a narrow lane barely fit for goat, and high on each side rose up such a rampant hedgerow of stinging bramble, nettle and borage I could only pass through it by turning myself sideways. And the insects! Why, I have never seen wasps so large, or such enormous Cabbage Whites—almost the size of my cheek and fluttering everywhere. Despite my fear however, I caught up my skirt and ventured in. Within a few steps I was deep inside your jungle, indeed, looking back I could no longer see the entrance, nor Hedrington. I must admit, my heart began to hammer at this point for how long has it been since Hedrington was out of my view? But then I recalled my cousin Lionel, who once crossed the Himalaya in his bare feet, in the winter, and I resolved that the courage of woman surely equals that of a man, and I should journey on. Of course, I believed that your house, with its grey stone and mullioned windows lay not far ahead down the path, for I have spied it a thousand times, but in that mazy thicket I must have taken a wrong turn. For as I ventured down the narrow track, walking with great difficulty sideways the whole time, a crab in French silk, the path just twisted and turned and no house came into view. The air grew warmer, and the sound of the insects, the strumming crickets and the buzzing bees increased in tempo until my ears were ringing from the tumult. I became light-headed and my breast grew damp. But Sir, I was most determined to find you. Each step was a grievance but I kept going. And then finally, the path seemed to widen. I hastened forward, eager to see your green door and the spotted mushrooms that grew beneath your windowpane. But what did I encounter instead? The white stone that marks the division between our properties! Mr. Goodfellow, I had gone in a complete circle and there ahead of me stood lovely Hedrington with its yellow Bath stone amber in the evening light. It was already quite late and the dining room chandelier was lit and shining through the long windows. Betsy would have laid out my evening clothes and run my bath, and in the kitchen, my dinner would be almost ready. I was so panicked; I almost ran home across the lawn and slipped in the conservatory door so the servants would not see the tattered state of my clothes, my unkempt hair, and the bramble scratches that covered my arms and face. Have no fear, tho’, dear Mr. Goodfellow! I am determined to find
Sam Grieve · 115