A few days ago I gave you an extract from the diary of fifteen year old Laura Troubridge. It suggested how she would spend her day if she had her choice.
She is now 26 years old and this is the real Day of her Life.
August 2nd, 1884 - THE DAY OF MY LIFE
. . . but quite unconscious of it, I rose, breakfasted, talked and laughed as on any ordinary day, and afterwards, feeling rather in a fright I went off all by myself to interview a strange Mr. Cooper about my book. He turned out to be a most harmless civil old chap, who having had a letter from Caldecott praising my drawings is anxious to do what he can about them.
A lovely day, a day to spend lying in a wood amongst ferns and flowers. Home to lunch and afterwards, about four, drove with Amy to the Grosvenor Gallery. Mr. Hope met us there and Jack St. Aubyn. Looked at the pictures together and spent a quiet time. Then Vi joined us and we all went to Charbonnel next door - for iced coffees and petits fours. It was a hot day. Walked partly home and said 'au revoir', not good-bye.
Alone to dinner, we three - wore my black frock with some red carnations. Amy dressed up the strangest and most fantastic dummy and called it 'Aunt Chatty' — to preside at the Drum as sundry cousins had failed. Mr. St. Leger came and was funny, but I was not in tune with fooling and remained on the balcony, where there was a rising moon, until Adrian came very late. I had faithfully promised to play games with the others and not spend a tete-a-tete evening - but all such promises were thrown to the winds — we only came in and danced for a few minutes with the rest, and then sat there together all the evening, and when the moon had risen above the housetops and looked down on us — we knew that we loved each other — till Death us do part - and were very happy.
I still call him 'Mr. Hope' but I am trying to get used to the other in my mind. On August 8th Adrian came to take me to the station, for Tom [who was in the 6oth] was stationed at Limerick and he and a group of his brother officers had taken a house at Knocklofty near Clonmel, for the fishing and we four sisters were invited to keep house for them. We drove off together, waving good-bye to Gloucester Street - such a drive - almost too happy to feel how near the parting was. As we passed the Abbey he put on my finger the most lovely sapphire ring. Our horse fell down but we scarcely noticed it. Arrived at Euston he took care of us all, but the train went dreadfully soon and we had to say our first good-bye - though we called it *au revoir'.
Everyone say Aaaah, how sweet!