for they surprisingly acquired a daughter! I sometimes
wondered why Frances and Gilbert had never adopted a child: they
lavished much love on nieces, nephews and godchildren, but this was
the only fulfillment to their longing until almost old age--and even
then their conscious act was merely that of engaging a secretary.
They had had many secretaries before, some of whom came with a quite
inadequate training. "They learnt on Gilbert," as a friend once put
it. It was difficult, too, for the secretaries, since neither Gilbert
nor Frances had any idea of hours or of the arrangement of work. It
was quite probable that Gilbert would suddenly want to dictate late
in the evening or again that Frances would ask the secretary of the
moment to run into the village for the fish in the middle of the
morning. Hence rather general discomfort. Gilbert dictated straight
to the typewriter, so shorthand was not needed. He went very slowly
with many pauses. But it is typical of this period that no carbons
were kept of letters sent, no files of letters received.

In 1926 came Dorothy Collins. Not only did she bring order out of
chaos, but she became first the very dear friend of both Frances and
Gilbert and finally all that their own daughter could have been. I
remember how Frances talked of her to me when she was hoping Dorothy
would become a Catholic (which she did some years later) and again
when she herself was left solitary by her husband's death, and how I
felt with inward thanksgiving that no child could mean more to her
mother. But long before this stage was reached came a great
lightening of the burden of living. No longer would Frances cry over
income tax returns, no longer would money worry her. Chauffeur as
well as secretary Dorothy drove them both to London for engagements
and through England and Europe on holidays or lecture tours. She went
with them to America and handled the business of their second tour
there. Now when friends rang up to make arrangements Frances or
Gilbert could say: "Would you ring again when Dorothy comes in. I'm
not quite sure. She keeps the engagement book." And while Dorothy
sternly warded off the undesirables, it worked out much better for
friends as no engagement book had been kept before with any
regularity. Now engagements were kept as well as an engagement book.
Frances would still deal with the clothing question, but Dorothy
handled it if she were unwell, and in every case delivered him
punct