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Nov. 1st 1900

My dear mother-

This morning I received a letter from sister Bess, she writes a good letter. Tuesday morning I went to Broadway 106 miles from London.) The country here at this time of year is a perfect Paradise of color. Wonderfully rich, it was a beautiful sight. Arrived at Evesham at 12:30. Took dinner in an old Tavern, the desert was called "[[?]]". It was an odd arrangement of raw dough, jam, and pie plate. Went by mail coach to Broadway a distance of 7-miles. We stopped in front of an old, old house, built of stone and every line, window, and door, was quaint, and rare.

Millet's daughter met me: led me through the garden, to her fathers studio. Wonderful studio, built seven-hundred years ago. Mr. Millet bought the whole place with all the relics thrown in, for a thousand pounds. We entered the ruin (which had been entirely restored), and found the artist painting a white sleeve in a a thirteenth century picture. The studio is, as Millet says, the finest in the world, because it is most unique. There are five rooms in it. The largest room takes up most of the ground floor; its ceiling is the roof, which is enriched by large oak beams. All the windows are very odd, in fact the whole place is just like an old abbey, or monkish 13th century institution.

Transcription Notes:
I'm not sure what the food is highlighted by the bracketed question mark.