her letters were never very long:

MY DEAR JACKY--Don't you think it very odd getting a letter from
me? It is nearly a fortnight since we came here. At first it was
_very_ nice. We went up the mountains, and Aunt Emma took us in
a boat on the lake. And we gathered some wild strawberries, only
some of them were quite white--not red a bit. But now it has
begun to rain, and we don't like it at all. Perhaps we sha'n't
be able to get home because the rain will cover up the roads. It
is _very_ dull staying in, only mother makes us such nice plays.
Good-bye, Jacky. I send my love to Francis. Mind you don't
forget us.

Your loving little friend,
MILLY.

Olly wrote a much longer letter, that is to say, mother wrote for him,
and he told her what to say, and as this was a much easier way of
writing than Milly's way, he got on very fast, and Mrs. Norton had to
write as quickly as she could, to keep up with him. And this was what
Olly had to say:

MY DEAR FRANCIS--I wonder what you'll say to-morrow morning
when the postman brings you this letter. I hope you'll write
back, because it won't be fair if you don't. It isn't such fun
here now because it does rain so. Milly and I are always telling
the rain to go away, but it won't--though it did at home. Last
week we went out in a boat, and I rowed. I rowed a great way,
much farther than Milly. We went very slow when Milly rowed. It
was very jolly at the picnic. Aunt Emma gave me some cake, and
mother gave me some bread and jam. Nana won't let us have cake
and jam both, when we have tea at home. Aunt Emma told us a
story about King Arthur. I don't believe you ever heard it. The
water-fairies took him away, and his friend wanted to go too,
but the king said 'No! you must stop behind.' Milly cried
because she felt sad about the king. I didn't cry, because I'm a
little boy. Mother says you won't understand about the story,
and she says we must tell it you when we get home. So we will,
only perhaps we sha'n't remember. Do you do lessons now? We
don't do any--only when it rains. Milly's writing a letter to
Jacky--mine's much longer than hers.

Your little friend,
OLLY.

Then came the putting up the letters, addressing them, and stamping
them, all of which the children enjoyed very much, and by the time they
were laid on the hall table ready to go to the