The Letters of Katherine Mansfield: Volume II
March 1920
To Anne Estellc Rice
March 1920
I'm leaving here April 27th and coming to England until the fin d'octobre when I return here. I'll be in Hampstead for the summer… We must meet soon. I'm ever so much better and can walk and talk, but part of my left lung is gone and that means my heart is not a boxer's heart, and I'll never be able to climb trees or run page 24 or swim again. Isn't that a bit steep of Almighty God? I'm always praising him, too, but there you are. I'm terribly happy all the same and I don't think the world has lost an athlete, darling, do you?
The weather here is simply supreme. It's summer, hot enough for cold chicken, un peu de salade, champagne and ice-cream, all of which are very much here. The flowers are marvellous, Anne. We go for picnics up among the mountains and long day excursions by motor. We fly into Monte and buy hats for some reason. “C'est 1'heure des chapeaux” at present and hats seem to be flying in the air. A whiff of the Rooms gives one civilization encore, and the bands, the gay frocks, the children pelting the car with tiny bouquets—all seem part of the spring picture. All the flowers I share with you and the lemon groves and orange trees. I see little houses perched up on the high hills and dream we are there sur la terrasse. I shall always love you like that. When the light is lovely I think, Anne would see it, and when a funny old man stands in the middle of the road cursing his goats it's a drawing by Anne.
I am living here with ‘relations’—the dearest people only they are not artists. You know what that means? I love them, and they've just been too good and dear to me, but they are not in the same world we are and I pine for my own people, my own wandering tribe.