[c/o Mrs John Carroll Perkins, 90 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston]

I was very glad to get your cable yesterday, though it brought no great relief to my feelings. I wish that I did not have to wait so long: I gather that there is some delay before the hospital observation is possible, and of course you cannot tell how long that will take. I am sure that you will cable again, or have me cabled, as soon as there is anything definite to report. Meanwhile you tell me to write to Boston, so I presume that you are staying at 90 Commonwealth Avenue; and as you will be thinking more about your aunt and uncle than about yourself, that will not provide just the restful environment that you ought to have at this moment. I wish that you could go to Wood’s Holl [sic] meanwhile – and afterwards, I imagine that part of the prescription will be a prolonged rest and convalescence in the country somewhere. And I wish I could be sure that you had adequate funds at your disposal for having the very best of everything. (IElsmith, Dorothy Olcott;a5 have just written to Dorothy Elsmith, by the way: I had been wondering what her boys are doing and whether either of them is already on active service).1

I have had no letter from you this week: not that I shall expect more than a short letter under these conditions, and I find it hard to write at any length myself. I am just waiting in the doldrums: andLittle Giddingredrafting finished;b7 now that the first elation of simply having finished another draft of my poem has subsided, I begin to have graver doubts of its value, and in any case it doesn’t seem to matter – a thing like that can help to support one in public anxieties and troubles, not in private ones like when there is nothing whatever that I can do about it myself.