I’ve been trapped in this nightmare for almost three days and I can’t think why you haven’t sent the cavalry in to rescue me. Honestly, why I said I’d stay the whole weekend is beyond me – it should be a written rule that when one’s old school chums get married and procreate that visits are kept to a maximum of four hours and never never never extended overnight. The real shocker is how staid G has become. You know how he always used to go on about how crumbling the old pile was, and how dreadful it would be to have to keep it up, and how he was sure to sell it just as soon as the old dears both up and left him? All of that’s forgotten. His dear ma sits in the bath chair in the corner of the room, and he stands by the fireplace and solemnly promises to restore the place to its former glory. She wells up and cries about his dear old pa, and how he would have been so proud to see G returned to the family home and then they all fall about weeping. Frankly I remember old C as a complete b——— who would have sooner kicked G from one end of the tennis court to the other than he would have given him the key to the front door.
The other trouble is some wisp of a girl called Agnes they’ve unearthed from under a rock, who obviously has been wheeled in to try and tempt me out of bachelorhood. They will have to find better bait if they want to succeed. She’s mousey brown inside and out, no spark at all. Her mother is here too, keeps making pointed remarks about the girl’s hair and complexion since they arrived, as if the country air can correct the shade of the girl’s character. Last night at dinner they made me sit next to her (the girl not the mother) and I could barely squeeze two words out of her – it was like eating next to a tortoise. Unfortunately I had to extend an invitation to the wisp, after I mentioned the artist’s party to G&S, since she only animated herself once to exclaim how exciting it would be to finally be in town. Perhaps we can sit her next to that Branch fellow your Uncle has brought along. They would charm each other equally.
There’s the bell for tea, so I’ll wrap up and get this to Jeffers. I’m driving back tomorrow and will be coming straight round, so do make sure you’ve got the gin out.