ss you had been there to
put on my veil.

We are having a wonderful trip, and (please don't laugh at me), but
do you know it is a real privilege to travel with a man like Edwin?
He knows so many things without being the least bit teachy. Mother
says you are never conscious of the pedagogue in Edwin. That is
really so, which I think is remarkable, considering the many
persons he has to teach.

First we went to Scotland. Nothing in France thrilled me as did the
lakes of Scotland. How thankful I am that, as a child, I did not
have access to very many books, only the classics, and I had to
read the Waverley Novels or nothing. Scotland meant a great deal
more to me because of my having read Scott. Edwin says he finds
about one out of ten of the young persons of the day know their
Dickens and their Scott.

Edinburgh is so interesting that already Edwin and I are planning
to revisit it in his next Sabbatical year. That is a long way off
but we are so happy those seven years will pass quickly, I know. I
almost fell over the ramparts of Edinburgh Castle trying to see the
exact spot where Robert Louis Stevenson's hero, St. Ives, went down
on the rope to the rocks below. As I craned my neck, Edwin
whispered hoarsely in my ear: "Past yin o'cloak, and a dark, haary
moarnin."

Edwin says I take fiction much more seriously than I do history. He
does, too, unless the history happens to be Mary Queen of Scots or
something that by rights should have been fiction. Greyfriars
Bobby, for instance, is a true tale but affects us both as though
it were fiction. We gave a whole afternoon to that dear little
doggy, following in his footsteps as nearly as we could through the
streets of Edinburgh, and out into the country by the road he took
to the farm, and then back to Greyfriars Churchyard where the old
shepherd, his master, was buried.

Of course we did the Burns country thoroughly. Edwin seemed as at
home there as I am in the beech woods at Chatsworth. Burns has
never been one of my poets, but he is now. I have adopted him for
life since I realize what he means to Edwin.

We are in London now and could spend a year here and not see all we
want to see. We play a splendid game which maybe you will think is
silly, but you don't know how much fun it is