Boston, 15 January 1925
Dearest Mark and I hope I may say ‘Dearest Margaret’, even though we have never met.
I have received the invitation to the wedding. What an exciting event, I am so delighted for you both. And to think that, like me, Mark is marrying an American. It’s a very good thing to do, in my opinion.
I know it will be a wonderful occasion, and that you will be very happy. But I hope you will understand if I don’t attend. I know it must seem odd, but running away to America (I’m sure that’s how it seems to all of you) was such a difficult thing to do, and something I worried about so much before I did it – when I stayed with Irene in Berlin just before, I could hardly sleep, I was fretting so much – that I need a while to recover. A big family wedding, with everyone there, and people inspecting me and discussing how I look and assessing John and seeing that he is a bit older than me . . . I can’t face it yet. Worst of all would be seeing Mamma and feeling guilty about leaving her, because I know I would.
I may seem absurd to you, though I hope I don’t. I’m not yet ready. But I long to see you all, and we can meet in New York or Boston, or wherever. Just the four of us, I hope, that’s what I would like. The next time you are in the States – you will be too busy this time.
I am very happy. And I think, in fact I know, that Mamma will be having an American grandchild in a little while.
Your ever-loving sister,
Sophia