and as full of happiness for yourself as they are for us.

RICHARD.

CHAPTER XIII

THE SPANISH AND ENGLISH CORONATIONS

Interrupted by frequent brief visits to New York Philadelphia, and
Boston, Richard and his wife remained in Marion from May, 1901, until
the early spring of 1902. During this year Richard accomplished a
great deal of work and lived an ideal existence. In the summer months
there were golf and tennis and an army of visitors, and during the
winter many of their friends came from New York to enjoy a most
charming hospitality and the best of duck shooting and all kinds of
winter sports.

Late in April, they sailed for Gibraltar on their way to Madrid, where
Richard was to report the coronation ceremonies, and from Madrid they
went to Paris and then to London to see the coronation of King Edward.
It was while on a visit to the Rudyard Kiplings that they heard the
news that Edward had been suddenly stricken with a serious illness and
that the ceremony had been postponed.

11, St. James's Place,
St. James's Street, S. W.
London.

June, 1902.

DEAR MOTHER:--

This is only to say that at the Kipling's we heard the news, and being
two newspaper men, refused to believe it and went to the postoffice of
the little village to call up Brighton on the 'phone. It was very
dramatic, the real laureate of the British Empire asking if the King
were really in such danger that he could not be crowned, while the
small boy in charge of the grocery shop, where the postoffice was, wept
with his elbows on the counter. They sent me my ticket--unasked--for
the Abbey, early this morning, and while I was undecided whether to
keep it--or send it back, this came. So, now, I shall frame it as a
souvenir of one of the most unhappy occasions I ever witnessed. You
can form no idea of what a change it has made. It really seems to have
stunned every one--that is the usual and accepted word, but this time
it describes it perfectly.

Goodbye,
DICK.

During the summer of 1903 my mother and father occupied a cottage at
Marion, and every morning Richard started the day by a visit to them.
My brother had already bought his Crossroads Farm at Mount Kisco, and
the new house was one of the favorite topics of their talk. The
following letter was written by my mother to Richard, after her return
to Philadelphia.

September, 1903.

Here we are in the old library and breakfast over. There seemed an
awful