The Mitfords: Letters between Six Sisters. Charlotte Mosley

extra well. Apparently Alexander was heard calling this last night when he was meant to be going to sleep ‘Trade, Trude, dogs, dogs, dogs!’ & as far as he could he was copying my voice. Isn’t it extra tüm [sweet]? I do wish you could have them, I always feel so awful when I can see as much as I like of them & you are unable to do so. I may seem not to understand how awful it is for you when I am actually talking to you but that is only because we have to get through so much in such a horribly short space of time. I must tell you that I spend hours at night sometimes worrying about it & I always feel so gloomy when the visit is over & there is still so much we have not been able to discuss. I only pray it may now only be for a short while longer.

      I saw Nancy yesterday. She is going to leave Rutland Gate & hopes to get a little house at Wimbledon so as to be with Peter. Derek is still in Scotland but I much hope will be down here again in about two weeks’ time. Muv & Bobo arrive to stay today & I will tell them news of you.

      Much love & to Kit from Woman

      

      Darling Honks

      It is so exciting because Andrew & I are going to be married, such a tease on Bridget [Airlie] who always said we never would. His parents have been so wonderful about it, I didn’t know people could be so nice, they really seem pleased. It would be awful getting married if everyone hated it, but as it is it’s perfect. It was only arranged between us for two days before the papers started telephoning, they really are like magic. We went to get a ring, it was such fun & I was terrified someone we knew would come in & see us at it because no-one was meant to know till it was in The Times. The awful thing is that when a soldier gets married he has to tell his Colonel & of course Andrew hadn’t when it was in the paper so I hope lividry hasn’t set in.

      I expect we shall be terrifically poor but think how nice it will be to have as many dear dogs & things as one likes without anyone to say they must get off the furniture. I do so wish you weren’t in prison, it will be sad not having you to go shopping with, only we’re so poor I shan’t have much of a trousseau on account of everything being so expensive.

      Poor Andrew is hating every moment of it & keeps saying how embarrassing it all is & how he wishes he could go away. He’s at Elstree for this week, learning something, which is a great tease because we wanted to go out the night it’s announced but as it seems to be in all the papers already it doesn’t seem much point.

      I am so excited for it. We haven’t decided on a church, all the nice ones have been bombed. Anyhow it isn’t for nearly two months so there isn’t any hurry. Your nanny was killing & said ‘You’ll be wanting all our baby clothes’. I can’t get over how wonderful the Devonshires were, they never said anything against, not even how young he is, because he’s only just had his twenty-first birthday, I do think it was nice of them.

      I don’t know where we shall live or anything, it all depends on where he is sent, I should think some boarding house or something.

      Much love, Debo

      

      Darling Honks

      Thank you so much for your heavenly letter, it was bliss of you to write. You can’t think how exciting it all is. The only tease is you not being out, you are the only person who is taking proper interest. I keep on at Muv about the dress etc. & she only looks at the ceiling and says, ‘Ohrrr, I think we want some new paint’. I will show you my ring which everyone except me & Mrs Bunce¹ thinks very mivvy [stingy]. Nancy was rather teasy about it & said, ‘You can’t go to Cartier, it’s well known to be hopeless’, when we’d already been. However I like it & I hope you will.

      Nancy is going to ask Cecil Beaton where to have my dress made by a theatrical person because it wouldn’t be so expensive as a proper shop. It’s going to be masses & masses & masses of white tulle, tight bodice & sleeves, a skirt such as has never been seen before for size. I don’t mind if that is the fashion or not, it’s what suits me. And the train will come out of the skirt & be enormous with great ruches of tulle all down, otherwise the skirt will be quite plain. What to wear on my head I don’t know & I know Miss Stevens will wreck my hair but I couldn’t go to anyone else. Then if the actual wedding dress doesn’t cost too much we could go a bit of a bust on the going away one, have it from Worth or Molyneux or somewhere. Oh Honks, it is so exciting. I’m going to begin on my underclothes next week. Lady Dashwood said I could choose something at Lydia Moss & put it down to her account, so that will be heaven. If you are really going to give me something, I would adore a little jewel – I’m sure I won’t get any. Only you’re not to spend too much because it is the war & all.

      Andrew is away on a course this week so I haven’t seen him for ages but shall on Sunday & I expect we’ll fix when to get married then. It will be about the middle or end of next month I expect. The thing is, which church? Some say St Maggots [Margaret’s], some say the Smithfield one & I rather think St Martin’s-in-the-Fields but I must go & study-dear this week. If only one knew how many people would come, I do hope masses. As for the reception, the Wid has kindly offered Tite St but I’m secretly hoping the Salisburys will say Arlington St, but Muv says I’m not to say that in case they don’t. I had twenty-four letters & telegrams yesterday, wasn’t it wonderful. On top of all this, Nina is going to have puppies next week, isn’t it a worry.

      I roared about the ‘cris de joie’, when I cook there is nothing but groans. Poor Andrew doesn’t know what he’s in for. I wish I knew how much dough we shall have, not much I suppose on account of the war. The Wid was wonderful & wants to be a bridesmaid draped in black. She said, ‘Tell me dear, will you be IMMENSELY rich?’

      I’m coming to London in my £14 car tomorrow, it does go so well, you can’t imagine. I’m only having £200 for my trousseau, but I suppose it will buy the essential though certainly not linen. Everything is so terribly expensive but I hope I shall be able to get something nice.

      Well Honks I do long to see you & tell you all though Muv says it’s terribly dull for other people, isn’t it vile of her. All Farve said when I told him was something about the insurance of my car. He is hopeless.

      All love, Debo

      

      Darling Nard

      Well, Nard, about the Wedding!!!! Well, it was quite heaven. Debo’s dress was quite too lovely, and she looked MARVELLOUS. The only person who looked ghastly was dear old Farve; he looked so sad. He was wearing his Home Guard Uniform (‘Rompers’) which was also rather depressing as it wasn’t even long enough. Horrors!!

      12 May Well, Nard, I am continuing this letter, I didn’t finish it before because of my poor paralysed hand. Nard, I want to tell you something important. Nard, I am not allowed to visit you. You know, I am sure, how much I would love to come & see poor you. But it’s not possible.

      I see the Germans have bombed the House of Commons – how awful.

      Nard, I must tell you about my sorrow. Five of my very best English friends, and one foreign one, have died in the last year. How can I bear it?

      The Fem sends you her love.

      V best love, Nard, from Bobo

      

      Mary Ormsby-Gore, Unity and Pamela at Deborah’s wedding. London, 19 April 1941.