As you see, I write from London. All my plans have been upset by an
unexpected catastrophe. I will try and begin at the beginning and tell
you everything in order as clearly as possible, but the fact is I am so
bewildered by everything that has happened that I find it difficult to
think clearly and to write at all.
I think I told you in my last letter that Housman asked me to spend
Christmas with them at Oakley. I was to go down yesterday, Thursday, and
George was going to Paris by the night train. I think I told you, too,
that ever since we stayed at Oakley in November, George has been a
_changed man_ and in the highest spirits. On Thursday we had luncheon
together. I thought it rather odd that he should be going to Paris, but
he said he was tired of England and felt that he must have a change. I
wondered what this meant. I could have imagined his wanting to go away
if he had been like he was before, that is to say miserable, but now
that he seemed to be enjoying life it was rather extraordinary. I said I
was going to Oakley. He said nothing, and talked about his journey.
After luncheon he went to the office to give Mellor some final
instructions. He said he might be away for some time. I left him there
at about half-past three. I asked him why he was going by the night
train, and he said he hated a day in the train and always slept well in
the train at night. I said good-bye and went down to Oakley in a taxi.
Housman had not arrived, and the butler (who has taken the place of the
nice parlour-maid there used to be at Campden Hill) told me that Mrs
Housman had gone up to London. Her maid thought she was staying the
night at Garland's Hotel, but he, the butler, knew nothing of her
arrangements. This astonished me, but I supposed there were no servants
at Campden Hill. At a quarter to five Housman arrived in a motor with
Carrington-Smith. He looked more yellow than usual. I met him in the
hall and while we were talking the butler gave him a letter which he
said Mrs Housman had left for him. He said we would have tea at once in
the drawing-room. Then he said to Carrington-Smith: "I just want to show
you that thing," and to me: "We will be with you in one minute." He took
Carrington-Smith into his study and I went into the drawing-room. Tea
was brought in. I again tried the butler and asked him whether Mrs
Housman was coming back to-morrow morning. He said that she had left no
instructions, but Mr Housman was probably aware of her intentions. He
went out and almost directly I heard someone shouting and bells ringing,
violently. Carrington-Smith was calling me. I ran out and met him in
the hall; he said Housman had had a stroke, he thought it was fatal.
It was like a thing on the stage. A breathless telephone to the doctor.
The motor sent to fetch him. Servants scurrying with blanched faces.
Housman lying on the sofa in the study, his collar undone, his face
ghastly.
Carrington-Smith said: "We must telephone to Campden Hill for Mrs
Housman."
I said: "She isn't there." Then told him about Garland's Hotel. He
seemed _dumbfounded_, sent for the butler, who confirmed this, and then
got on to the Hotel. Mrs Housman was in. He spoke to her and told her
Housman was dangerously ill and she must come at once. He said he would
get on to Miss Housman and tell her to bring Mrs Housman down in her
motor. This was arranged and he told Miss Housman the whole facts. In
the meantime the doctor arrived--an Australian. He examined Housman and
said it was heart failure and that he had always feared this. They had
known he had a weak heart after his last illness. It might have happened
any day.
Then Carrington-Smith told me how it had happened. When they went into
the study Housman had sat down at his writing-table and read a letter
through twice quite slowly, torn it up and thrown it into the fire. He
had then said: "We will go," and at that moment fallen back and
collapsed on the sofa.
He told me that Housman had had a terrific row with Mrs Fairburn
yesterday and had talked of nothing else on the way down. Probably the
letter was from her, he said. I said: "Yes, very likely"; but as a
matter of fact I knew it was from Mrs Housman. He had not noticed that,
or if he had he was lying on purpose.
Mrs Housman and Miss Housman arrived about six. Mrs Housman almost
_frighteningly_ calm.
She wanted to know every detail. She had a talk with Carrington-Smith
alone and then I saw her for a moment before going away. She asked me if
I had seen Housman before he died. Then she made all the arrangements
herself. I went back to London by train.
I don't know what to think. Why did she go to London? Why did she stay
at Garland's Hotel? The Campden Hill house isn't shut up. Miss Housman
talked about going there. Did the letter which she left for Housman play
a part in the tragedy?