Nor do I wish to do so.

And when I hear of you at Harrington Hall I know that you are on your way to the other things.
Do tell me what life is like with Oswald and Violet.

Of course he never writes.

He is one of those men who, on marrying, assume that they have at last got a person to do a duty which has always hitherto been neglected.

Violet does write, but tells me little or nothing of themselves.
Her letters are very nice, full of anecdote, well written, -- letters that are fit to be kept and printed; but they are never family letters.