Baghdad March 10 Darling Father. I think you are quite right not to undertake the strain of a big London meeting now, though your speech at Stoke was so good that I almost believed you could do anything. Your little travel to Italy will do you good, I do so hope dearest. You will love seeing how Pauline enjoys it and Herbert, as we know, is the most entrancing travelling companion. I should like to be with him in Italy and with you - how we would talk of architecture, pictures and things like that. Don't do too much, though; take a rest.
I seem to be gadding about a great deal. Last Thursday night I went up to Khanaqin to spend Friday with the King. 'Ali was there too. He is a gentle, lovable, ineffective creature, far more suited to the life of a scholar than to the throne or the battlefield. In the morning, while a carpenter and I were busy laying down linoleum and arranging furniture, he sat outside in the sun and read. "What are you reading, sir?" said I, emerging for a moment. "A book on manners" he replied. Well, it has profited him. He has the sweetest manners of his own.

We lunched early, went a few miles down the line on a trolley to a place in the farm where we found horses waiting and spent the afternoon riding about. The King had strictly charged me to put on breeches so as to ride comfortably. I rather wondered what Sidi 'Ali would think when I appeared in a man's riding kit, but he never flinched. It was quite delicious, the whole country as green as England after so much rain, and flowers everywhere, red and yellow ranunculus, blue burrage, simple things but so pretty.

When we got back, the drawing room and two of the bedrooms were finished. I whipped the furniture into place and the drawing room looked like a nice comfy room in an English country house. Not all the furniture is covered yet - I have now bought supplementary chintzes and silks in the bazaar to finish it off.

After tea I left the King chatting with his odds and ends of people - there always seem to be a lot of Hijazis hanging about now - and went to have a bath and change for dinner. When I came back I found 'Ali cheerfully sipping a (very weak) whiskey and soda which took my breath away much more than my breeches had taken his. A glass of champagne at dinner, he indulged in, and a liquore[?] afterwards. These, I feel sure, weren't alluded to in his book on manners. After dinner I left to catch my train, an ADC (the one who dined with us in London) taking me to the train. The motor car, characteristically, hadn't enough petrol to reach the station, so we had to get out and walk. But there was no danger of missing the train, which would have been kept waiting for ever, till I turned up, unlike the North Eastern.

The King and 'Ali always address each other punctiliously as "My Lord". "Oh my lord" says Faisal "this is where we are ploughing for cotton." "Yes, my lord" replies 'Ali.

On the other hand they don't the least know how to behave to dogs. The King's big spaniel, Clown[?], who had stayed with Ken for a bit when he used to come for walks with my little spaniel, Michael, said he hadn't had had anyone to speak to for weeks, not really speak to. He and Michael came with us round the farm, at my suggestion with which the King readily concurred, though he would never have thought of it himself. They enjoyed themselves madly in the grass and water channels.

It poured again on Saturday and was horribly muddy on Sunday. I spent most of Sunday morning in the Museum; Iltyd came to lunch and we took a cab and went to see Elsie Sinbad who was having malaria. Iltyd wasn't well either and didn't dine that night. Ken came and Capt Holt and charming Colonel Martin, a man from the Indian General Staff. We played bridge and it was very pleasant.

On Monday I had a note in the office, from Joan CampBell to say that she was here! with a cousin, Ian, and a colourless friend Miss Dansey. I went to see them at tea time and arranged plans for next day. Joan is amazingly pretty and charming isn't she. She told me she had seen you just before she left.

I dined with the Higginses to meet the King, quite nice.

Mr Cooke took the CampBells into the bazaars on Tuesday morning, and I took them to Kadhimain [(Al Kazimiyah)] and Mu'adhdham [Azamiyah, Al] in the afternoon, ending with tea with the King. They all dined with me - I had hastily got Ken and a nice Squadron Leader called Harnett, to meet them. Today they went to Babylon and tomorrow they return to Palestine.

I go tomorrow to Ur to do the division. Lionel also comes and I'm glad to say Col. Martin who has a spare day or two and was very eager to see Ur. Michael accompanies the party. Next week is the division at Kish, much less interesting but happily not so far away.

Aren't the French in a horrible hole. They are holding up everything, economic and political.

I hope Mr Amery won't treat you with violence over the £47, about which (incidentally) I am quite in the dark. I also hope you'll get it!

Sir Herbert Leon - yes, Mrs Vernon's father is called Leon. I know because he has come out to see her, though I haven't seen him yet. But I doubtless shall. He is a Jew, isn't he? I continue to like the Vernons when I see them and he is good to work with when I have things to do with him. His is liked here by his colleagues. Darling, I'm your loving daughter Gertrude