I
So many unkind things have been said of the affair at Morris Valley
that I think it best to publish a straightforward account of everything.
The ill nature of the cartoon, for instance, which showed Tish in a pair
of khaki trousers on her back under a racing-car was quite uncalled
for. Tish did not wear the khaki trousers; she merely took them along
in case of emergency. Nor was it true that Tish took Aggie along as
a mechanician and brutally pushed her off the car because she was not
pumping enough oil. The fact was that Aggie sneezed on a curve and fell
out of the car, and would no doubt have been killed had she not been
thrown into a pile of sand.
It was in early September that Eliza Bailey, my cousin, decided to go
to London, ostensibly for a rest, but really to get some cretonne at
Liberty's. Eliza wrote me at Lake Penzance asking me to go to Morris
Valley and look after Bettina.
I must confess that I was eager to do it. We three were very comfortable
at Mat Cottage, "Mat" being the name Charlie Sands, Tish's nephew, had
given it, being the initials of "Middle-Aged Trio." Not that I regard
the late forties as middle-aged. But Tish, of course, is fifty. Charlie
Sands, who is on a newspaper, calls us either the "M.A.T." or the
"B.A.'s," for "Beloved Aunts," although Aggie and I are not related
to him.