Wife of Wounded Soldier. "Thanks so much. We'd love to, but the doctor was most emphatic in warning my husband to avoid any form of excitement."
CONCERT TICKETS.
I'm beginning to think that Petherton has taken a dislike to me, and it is not at all pleasant in a more or less country retreat to be on bad terms with a neighbour.
It is especially trying, when one has made every endeavour to be friendly, to meet with a chilling response. I'm sure I have written him some very genial letters on matters which less good-tempered individuals than I might have taken more seriously.
The Annual Concert in the village, a great event in local circles, has been another cause of unnecessary friction between Petherton and myself.
As one of the older residents and knowing most of the people here, I am usually consulted as to the programme, sale of tickets and other details of the concert, and my house is often used for rehearsing the solos, part songs and choruses which are rendered by the local Carusos and Melbas.
Our passage of arms was over the tickets. We who are on the Committee are supplied with so many tickets each, which we endeavour to sell. I sent two to Petherton, half-crown ones. I forgot to enclose the printed notice that usually accompanies them, but evidently he recognised my handwriting on the envelope, and sent the tickets back. He wrote a letter with them:—
Sir,—I received the enclosed, presumably from you, because the almost illegible scrawl on the envelope was yours without a doubt. Why you should try to bribe me with five shillings-worth of tickets for the Annual Concert I cannot conceive. Perhaps you are going to sing at it and are anxious that I should come to hear you. I shall deny myself that pleasure. I hear quite enough of you in the afternoons (this, no doubt, referred to the rehearsals). Should I change my mind, which is unlikely, I am quite able to purchase tickets.
I replied:—