1 January 1923

La Prieuré, Fontainebleau, Avon

My dearest Father
   I am writing this letter when the old year is at his last gasp and in the very act of turning up his toes! May the New Year be full of happiness for you. I wish I could imagine we might meet in it but perhaps in the one after I shall be fortunate enough to turn towards home and to see you at the Grange. It is a dream I would love to realise.
   Since I last wrote I have been leading a very tame semi-existence here. My heart, under this new treatment, which is one of graduated efforts and exercise, feels decidedly stronger, and my lungs in consequence feel quieter, too. Its a remarkable fact that since arriving here I have not had to spend one entire day in bed - an unprecedented record for me! I feel more and more confident that if I can give this treatment a fair trial - as I intend to do - and stay on for six months at least, I shall be infinitely stronger in every way. More I do not venture to say.
   Did I tell you in my last letter that the people here have had built a little gallery in the cowshed with a very comfortable divan and cushions. And I lie there for several hours each day to inhale the smell of the cows. It is supposed to be a sovereign remedy for the lungs. I feel I must look a great pa-woman, perched up aloft. But the air is wonderfully light and sweet to breathe, and I enjoy the experience. I feel inclined to write a book called "The Cowiness of the Cow" as a result of observing them at such close quarters. [To Harold Beauchamp, 31 December 1922.]