Dear James,
I have been waiting for news of you with baited breath. How are things going in Jakarta? I have heard tell of giant snakes that swallow men whole, and the entire business with these savage men makes me shudder. I can not even stand Spaniards for long. I should have married a sensible man, shouldn't I have? Not an impetuous adventurer; a rich banker's son or a starving artist, perhaps, but you were so romantic, striding around in your pith helmet and jhodpurs. I felt the smells of Africa and Sumatra in your hair, and your chapped hands. It was as if you were Othello, and I was your Ophelia. Oh, how the other women envy me! Every one married to some boring something-or-another, but only I can proudly claim a husband of the Royal Geographical Society.
"He is teaching savages to write," I tell them, "Such that he may recruit them as foreign correspondents for the Journal. He's terribly clever, isn't he?"
I always show the alphabets which you constructed for the various Greenlandic races, or were they Hottentots? (It becomes hard to keep them straight. I shall have to read your book again, ha-ha.) I always talk about how terribly keen you are for proper penmanship. As you can see, I have kept my own up to your exacting standards.
Little Albert grows bigger by the day. He has not yet spoken, although I'm sure when he does, it will be a grand proclamation in some South American dialect. Just the other day, in fact, I caught him in your study room. He had climbed up the stairs all by himself, and had toppled the umbrella stand where you keep your horrible arrow collection. By the time I'd caught him, he had the tip of the filthy thing in his mouth! I called the doctor immediately, but he told me there was nothing to fear; all poison had long since seceded from the barb. Never the less, Albert was subjected to strict punishment, and sent to bed with a remorseful behind that night.
All else goes well; both my mother and yours ask after you constantly. We all move our bowels regularly. I hope all is well with you.
Love and Warm Kisses,
Elizabeth