Letter, E. Vale to her sister

Dear Margaret —

The house is cold and the roof is the roof. Mr Tully has been three times and I have stopped believing him, though he is honest, which makes it worse.

Work is work. I have spent a fortnight on twelve volumes of ward books nobody will ever read, and I find I mind about them more than is reasonable. What I mind about is this: every rule in that office was made by somebody for a reason, and there is not one person left in the building who can tell me what any of the reasons were. So the rules are kept the way one keeps a hat one no longer likes. I have a fancy that an institution ought to write down why, at the time, and I know perfectly well that nobody would read that either.

Do not send the money. I mean it this time.

The Wednesday at Fairhaven is still the best meal of my week and the company is a great deal better than the food. Tell Ronald the chairs are holding.

— Ellie