A letter from George du Maurier to his mother, March 1862.
My dear Mamma,
I have just received your letter which is disgustingly short and disappointing after I’ve been waiting day after day—as if you didn’t owe me a letter—fact is, you don’t care half so much for your firstborn as you used, and I’m not going to stand it Madam. I must have you over here to remind you by the fascination of my manner and the charm of my conversation that you ought to have quite a peculiar pride and affection for me.
[…] Sam Perrot, who is certainly a very handsome gentlemanly young fellow, brought me the lotion; unfortunately, and to my great horror, he came when I was drawing myself as a roman warrior for Once a Week, and I had to hurry out to him in the most elementary state of hurried get-up.
[…] You don’t tell me anything about what kind of food you have now or if you are well etc. I must now leave off writing this letter which you don’t deserve, as I have to be hard at work all the afternoon, and only send this to quiet your anxieties—but depend upon it unless you write me a really long nice letter full of chat and your own ideas on everything as you always do, divil another letter will you get from me.
Love to Aunt G. and Bob, and believe me
Your injured but very affectionate son
K. du Maurier
I’ve got into 2 rooms, as people were beginning to chaff.