Letter from Edward Thomas to his wife, Helen Thomas. Archival reference: 424/1/1/1/1/92
part on clearing debts which really come under ordinary
expenses, lent which I could not expect them to pay, after the
large expenses of this term. Arthur wrote me a doleful letter -
Maud is going to be married - and didn't know what to give
as a present; he asked me to suggest something, and I
mentioned Stevenson's volume of essays called "Across the
Plains"

People seemed to expect me to have a sort of "bust up" I
regret to say I bought three

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My dearest friend,
I was far too busy yesterday to answer any letters except
those which business obliged me to answer, or which an
irritable affection (such as Mrs Noble's perhaps) demanded a
return for. So I hope you are not miserable at such a late
reply. You surely will not be; for your letters - and one came
his morning - are full of a healthy joy, and even a kind of
special
joy at my 21st birthday which I cannot say I feel. I was most
grateful to you for expressing that joy in words Let me thank
you also for your present: it is not completed yet; but up till
now I have bought Ruskin's "Two paths", Stevensons
"Memories and Portraits", and had framed that Leonardo
drawing of a Cherub which you have seen. My wall now is
quite wealthy, particularly since

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that very fine copy of Andrea del Sarto's portrait arrived: - I
was quite sincere in what I said about it to Mrs Noble; (the
letter you have doubtless seen).

Dosie sent me a tobacco pouch. Davies gave me a very
handsome pipe, O'Brien (with whom, and also Davies, and a
certain Collins I am becoming intimate) half a dozen cigars.
My Aunt gave me some fruit. Father and Mother sent me 21
shillings, which I fear I will have to spend in

bottles of wine and some fruit, with the result that I was upset
just as I was with Arthur on the day before Christmas (you
remember). It was a pity, and caused remorse; but I am very well
this morning, only regretting that expense on such ephemeral
pleasure, -a regret which I always feel on such occasions. I hope
I do not too easily and too thoroughly settle down to the ways
of this wonderful place: I think not. How much rather would I
have spent
quiet hours in the open fields with you; hours of friendly
conversation with [illegible] then; or satisfaction in the smile of
Mother and Father. Do not make me long too soon for the
pleasure we are to share when time reunites us, though
indeed I long - I burn and quiver - for it, with the thought of
your hair, with the thought of your head and it's poise.

This afternoon I hope to get out of the city into the fields;
tomorrow, too; and,

my own sweet little one, think of me so.
Let me kiss you on the brow and the lips and the breast.
Goodbye Goodnight! In life your truest and fondest friend
Edwy, and you my anemone maiden Helen.
Adieu.