26 October 1917 Stuart to Edith - Letter #12

Stuart to Edith
Oct. 26 1917
Best Belovéd,
I think it is quite time you had another note from me, and although I hope to see you to-night, I will try to write one now before I get up.
I wish I could thank you sufficiently for all your kindness to me during the last fortnight, but I cannot; I wonder if you realize anything of what it has meant to me to see you so often, to think of you more often, to love you always.
Since I have been at home, I have been thinking very seriously about many things, and if you can, I want you to help me. I expect you have realized that my great difficulty is my family, not so much financially (although that is difficulty enough) but because I am not one of them.
My brother, with whom I have had some correspondence on the subject, suggests that it is largely caused by my own disposition and behaviour, that I am too austere, grim and stern, and that if I would unbend a little more, I should find an improvement. Corrie said a very similar thing yesterday, his words were “You have got your own sphere and you won’t budge out of it”.
Yet I do not quite see what to do. I told Harold[1] I would give his suggestion a trial, as I am extremely anxious that all here should be happy, but so far my efforts have failed. Wednesday night was a good example.
I came home to keep Gladys company as she was alone; I was unable to find an interesting topic of conversation, games were negatived, so I got out some books and wrote some letters, hoping that by talking now and again I should do right. The result was an absolute failure. Gladys said she had never spent a worse evening. Nor had she been so bored in her life.
Can you tell me why it is? Is it through any fault of my own, or is it that our dispositions and tastes are so entirely different, that they will not blend. Gladys tells me I can’t be sociable, and that when I try I become silly, with which statement the boys agreed. Corrie instancing my behaviour at Harpenden at Whitsun and Reggie[2] my behaviour in Bagley Wood when we went primrosing, when they both said they were “disgusted” with me.
You know me fairly well, I think; can you help me? Would it be better for me to try to be sociable or shall I be myself? It is a big and difficult problem, I know, Belovéd, and I don’t want you to worry yourself about it, but two heads are better than one very often, especially when the second head is in sympathy with the first.
This has been very very serious so far, my Belovéd, has it not? but I have not finished yet.
There is no need for me to say that you have been very much in my thoughts, and one particular thought has come to me very often. We love each other deeply, as truly and as purely as possible, we believe; but we do not yet know each other intimately. We are each, I think, reluctant (or we find it difficult, at least) to express our deepest and most real thoughts except on paper. I think I know the reason of this; that we are different from other people, and we have rarely found a person quite in sympathy with us, not even in our own families, that by degrees, we have hidden our deepest thoughts and it is now difficult to dig them up.
It seems to me that it would be a great joy and help if we, who hope to spend our lives together helping one another, could contrive to have deep talks together about things which one is apt to hide; such as religion, our own ideas of life, and - I expect you know what I mean.
Hasn’t this been serious? Not too much so, I hope; and I hope it will not hurt at all, my belovéd. I don’t think it will, but I fear I am somewhat of a blunderer and speak too bluntly at times. Whenever I hurt, please tell me and I will be more careful, for you know, my love, I would not hurt you one little bit, for I love you so much.
Now Goodbye, Best Belovéd, my Helper and Comforter, Good bye for a little while.

PSM

[1] Harold Christopher Mills, 7 January 1895 to 14 January 1974 (Stuart's brother)
[2] Reginald Leslie Mills, 13 December 1902 to (Stuart's brother)

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