. We do so wish for you and
think that you cannot possibly be having so much
fun in Tideshead as if you had come with us. We
see such droll people in traveling; they do not
look as if they were going anywhere, but as if
they were lost and trying hard to find their way
back, poor dears! There was an old woman sitting
near us on a bench with a stupid-looking young
man, to hear the band play, and when it stopped
she said to him: "Now we've only got three tunes
more, and _they_ will soon be done." We wondered
why she couldn't go and do something else if she
hated them so much. Ada and I play a game every
morning when we walk in the town: We take sides
and one has the Germans and one the English, and
then see which of us can count the most. Of course
we don't always know them apart, and then we
squabble for little families that pass by, and Ada
is _sure_ they are Germans,--you know how sure Ada
always is if she feels a little doubtful!--but
yesterday there were Cook's tourists as thick as
ants and so she had no chance at all. Miss Winter
writes that she will be ready to join us the first
of August, which will be delightful, and mamma
won't have us to worry about. She said yesterday
that we were much less wild without you and Miss
Winter, and we told her that it was because life
was quite _triste_. She wishes to go to some far
little villages quite off the usual line of
travel, with papa, and does not yet know whether
to go now and take us, or wait and leave us with
Miss Winter. I promised to be _triste_ if she
would let us go. _Triste_ is my word for
everything. Do you still wear out two or three
dozen _hates_ a day? Ada said this morning that
you would _hate_ so many hard little green pears
for breakfast; but we are coming to plum-time now,
and they are so good and sweet. Every morning such
a nice Swiss maiden called Marie (they are all
Maries, I believe) comes and bumps the corner of
her tray against our door and smiles a very wide
smile and says "Das fruehstueck" in exactly the same
tone as she comes in,