Sunday 1 May, 1870
(morning)

Yesterday can only be described as an exercise in complete aggravation. We started well enough, with our examination of the Laboratory of the late Dr Pilkington.

Sir Cosmo set about a cursory examination of the Dr's research notes and journals,

Miss Chigwidgeon was examining the room full of cavies in hutches. Miss Whitnell was checking the inventories of various laboratory equipment and supplies, and then set to helping Sir Cosmo.

Mrs Cuthbert and I were examining the Capuchin monkeys in their cages. It all sounds so straightforward, and yet, as so often with the league, it devolved into complete anarchy.

Miss Chigwidgeon, not surprisingly, managed to upset a large number of the cavy hutches. Lt Wooster was brainwashed by a huge carnivorous plant, and almost ingested. Mrs Cuthbert insisted on announcing to the monkeys that we knew they could communicate (I had been hoping to observe them without alerting them to our knowledge of their possible abilities).

On the whole, I found it entirely impossible to proceed in an orderly fashion. Thank goodness I had at least gotten Edward out from underfoot by asking him to collect samples of all the wildflowers on the extensive Scarisbrick estate (I was careful to specify wildflowers, lest the eager pupil decimate the Scarisbrick rose garden).

We were finally solving the problem of the plant and starting to make headway with the journals and the monkeys when it was brought to our attention that Mr Mortimer Hammersly, the explosives expert (also a member of the Scarisbrick clan) had left the grounds apparently in pursuit of a local Registrar with the misfortune of a Polish-sounding name. I have been told that Mr Hammersly is quite brilliant in his field, and has performed essential services for her Majesty's government, but really! He is a dreadful menace.

We all rushed to town (Liverpool, that is) to try to intercept Mr Hammersly and rescue the Registrar, a Mr Bertowski. It was a great deal of very anxious rushing around. We passed the post enroute, and the poor man looked as though every one of our carriages had run him down at top speed!

Poor Mrs. Cuthbert was trying to find Mr. Bertowski in the Market, having no idea of his appearance or whereabouts. All she could do was wander the crowded streets shouting his name.

Just to add to the general farce of the whole thing, Mr Aidan Ramsay had just come in on the train, in response to Miss Whitnell's and Sir Cosmo's reports and requests for expert assistance. He was looking about for any of us to meet him at the station, but his wired message was at that moment being carried to the Manor by the post that we had nearly demolished moments before.

As soon as we all arrived in Liverpool, we saw to it that the Registrar's office, indeed the whole building, was evacuated. I could smell the explosives, but not clearly enough to locate them. We searched the building in feverish haste.

By the time most of us caught up with Mr Hammersly, Mr Salmalin had already found him, talked him out of his murderous delusion, and disconnected the explosives from the central heating. I was rather astonished by his capabilities.

Our questioning of Mr Hammersly confirmed that it had been Mr. Marcus Perthwaite, husband of one of the late Baron's granddaughters, who had set him on the trail of Mr. Bertowski. During the course of the afternoon we had pieced together a case against him, based on overheard conversations (including the one I had heard during our ride Saturday morning) and wild surmise:

Marcus Perthwaite had learned that the Registrar had an affidavit from the priest who had performed the marriage ceremony of Paolo's father Andrew Pilkington to Paolo's mother, making him a legitimate son and heir to the Scarisbrick barony (which cuts out all those granddaughters). Mr Perthwaite had further learned of a quiet marriage between Paolo and one Clara Bertwhistle, a scullerymaid at the neighboring estate of Dr Deemings.

The scullerymaid had been sent off, we have presumed due to pregnancy. This expected child, legitimate but secret, will be the new heir to the Scarisbrick seat, despite Paolo's disgrace.

Only the Registrar had the documentation to prove the child's legitimacy. Mr Perthwaite decided to use his kinsman's well-known instability as a weapon, informing him surreptitiously (and, as it happens, falsely) that the Registrar is Polish. Mr Perthwaite knew that Mr. Hammersly would most likely try to destroy the supposed Polish agent with an overly large explosion, thus eliminating the Registrar himself and also the documentation (along with half the town). He would also probably die in the explosion, eliminating another rival in the inheritance of the Scarisbrick wealth.

The man is a vicious, conniving scoundrel, we all knew it. But how to prove it?

Our spiritualist contingent hit upon a plan for getting him to confess.

We were required to pretend that Mr Hammersly had, in fact, attempted this destructive homicide, but had accidentally detonated his explosives prematurely, killing only himself. Mr Mortimer Hammersly and his father, Professor Hammersly, were both willing participants in this scheme.

We went back to Scarisbrick Manor with Mr Hammersly's "body" wrapped up closely and decorated with soot and scorches. Professor Hammersly declared that as his son died in his arms, he had called out to his Uncle Andrew, as though he could see him. This induced Lady Ditteridge and Baroness Scarisbrick to ask Mrs Cuthbert to hold a Seance.

Now, Mrs Cuthbert, as a practicing spiritual medium, planned to attempt a genuine Seance to summon Andrew Pilkington's spirit. Since said spirit had not truly shown himself to Mortimer Hammersly, (the latter being not actually dying), she could not guarantee that she would be able to reach him. We developed a second plan of having our "dead" Mortimer Hammersly appear to accuse Mr Perthwaite himself. Mrs Cuthbert was rather offended at the idea of this charlatanry, but was willing to put on a performance if necessary. (I daresay it's all the same to me, as long as we could catch the nasty man out).

Since the preferred plan was a genuine spirit manifestation, I was asked to be elsewhere (as my "Gift of Quiet" would supposedly disrupt the proceedings). So I kept a "vigil" with Mortimer Hammersly's "body" in a nearby sitting room. I heard a great deal of ruckus in the parlor, and experienced some of that cold-wind-candles-blowing-out sort of spiritual fuss even in the sitting room. Just as it reached a sort of crescendo, I couldn't quite restrain Mr Hammersly from putting in an appearance as his un-dead self. Oh, the Pandemonium.

I was told that Andrew Pilkington was sucessfully summoned, and was very angry with Mr. Perthwaite for obstructing the rightful inheritance of his son and his potential grandson. The appearance of Andrew Pilkington's deceased wife was an unexpected bonus.

By the time of Mortimer Hammerly's appearance, Mr Perthwaite was quite ready to give it up, though he had put up a valiant effort to look innocent. Miss Chigwidgeon managed to accidentally break the man's leg as he tried to escape in panic. Fair enough, though scant justice for the suffering he would have inflicted had he succeeded in destroying half of Liverpool.

Professor Hammersly's wife was very angry at him for making her think that Mortimer had been killed.

It was quite late by the time we all got back to the Haslingdon estate and to bed. My body was very tired, so I tried to go right to sleep, but to no avail. The confusion and frustration of an over-full day kept me awake and fretting until nearly dawn.

I have stayed back from church services, as have a few others of the League party. I have been reviewing my notes from yesterday's work in the laboratory, and I believe I might be able to put some order to it today.

I can hear Salmalin somewhere outside, and I just heard Miss Chigwidgeon's footsteps in the hall, I had better go see what is afoot.

(evening)

We have indeed been very busy today.

Just after the last entry, I joined Salmalin and Miss Chigwidgeon outdoors, where Salmalin was taking some exercise. He invited us to begin our lessons in defence, to which I agreed, though I did have to remind him that he should wear a shirt in mixed company. A pity.

Therefore, I was already rather weary, though exhilarated, by the time the rest of our party returned from Services. Nevertheless, after a light Nuncheon, We set out to the Pilkington laboratories to continue our work there.

Miss Whitnell and I worked well as a team in collecting samples from the large plant in the hothouse (with, of course, great help from the gentlemen, who were holding the ropes attached to our waists, so as to pull us out in case we were overcome by the plant's vapours).

We determined that burning was best, and set about chopping the thing up and putting pieces in the incinerator.

We had a difficulty, though, when Miss Chigwidgeon, going outside for some fresh air, stepped on a rake, which sprang up and hit her and then crashed into several plates of the hothouse's glass. Of course we had to stop our work to ensure that the plant remain contained. The groundskeeper and several assistants helped put boards and oilcloth over the broken panes. We couldn't possibly expect to have an afternoon of uninterrupted productivity.

While the work with the plant progressed, so also did the examination of the late Baron's writings. As we'd hoped, the papers included details of procedures and expected results. We now have much clearer idea of which animals are likely to have unusual abilities, so they can be observed with greater concentration.

Dr Pilkington was rigorous in recording the method and details of his experiments, for which I admire him, but I must say that this sort of experimentation seems nothing short of complete hubris, and far less useful in the pursuit of Knowledge than simply observing naturally occuring phenomena. And what a mess it's made.

Edward has nearly completed his collection. I am pleased with his diligence. He can be single-minded when something interests him. He found a rather unnerving plant, though...a wild-growing version of our enormous Utricularia! It resembled the Problematic Plant in all respects except size. It is definitely not a native version! Edward was wise enough to recognize it and bring it to our attention. We have rooted out all the plants we could find and we have left instructions with the Groundskeeper here to look out for it and destroy it when found.

I hope that Edward's work on his Comprehensive Survey of Botanical Specimens of the Liverpool area has shown him that the countryside is as interesting as Town.

Monday, 2 May, 1870

Today proved quite productive, and we were able to devote ourselves to our inquiry more completely (that is to say, no explosions, no escaping animals, no disasters, just study). What a relief!

The expert assistants that we requested from Sir Anthony arrived today. One of them was none other than Mr Silas Scuddamore! I was able to give Mr Scuddamore a copy of the Moth Paper, since I have not been in Town long enough to cal on him at his residence, and when we get back, he will still be working here.
I'm glad, now, that I've written out three (nearly four) copies for review by my colleagues. Copying manuscripts does pass the late hours quietly and usefully, though I have been suffering hand cramp as a result of my labours. I'm tempted to try out Sir Cosmo's peculiar tracing machine to produce multiple copies, but it's supposed to be such a dire secret, I daren't ask to use it for such a personal purpose.

We spent much of the day copying out parts of Dr. Pilkingtons work, and trying to formulate a useful index.

We also told Mr Scuddamore and the other expert, a Mr Digby, about what we'd found so far, since they will be taking on the immediate observation and ultimate disposition of the experimental animals. We hope to ensure Humane treatment for them (better late than never).

We also told Miss Angela Glossop, who of all the Scarisbrick family is the most interested in the kennel, about Dr Pilkington's experimental work with the dogs. I don't think she entirely believed what we told her, but she promised to keep an eye open for anything unusual. I hope that she will forget all about it and the dogs will continue more-or-less normal, but in case anything emerges, she will be forewarned and alert to it.

She also gave us her blessing to take Owen with us, as he has asked to stay with us. At Owen's further request, his mother will be joining us as well. She is an intelligent but normal bitch of rather late age, now suffering a wasting illness. We hope to make her comfortable in her remaining time.

Tomorrow we will be departing early to return to Town

Tuesday, 3 May, 1870

The train trip was uneventful, thank goodness. I spent much of the time with Edward, looking at his collection of Wildflowers.

In the post that awaited us upon return, I had news from Mr Frazer, who must apparently be away on assignment and will therefore miss the Watercolour Exhibition after all. What a shame, especially since I might have liked to stay longer with Dr Pilkington's papers if I hadn't had the Watercolours outing to look forward to. Well, I shall attend anyhow, with Edward and any others of the Household who might like to go.

Mr Frazer couldn't tell me in writing where he is going, but I'm sure I can find out. I hope he's not in any more danger than usual.

Wednesday, 4 May 1870
(morning)

The agenda is quite full today. I began with an early session of exercises with Salmalin leading the rest of us (particularly the ladies) in elementary self-defence practice. How fortunate that he's such a patient teacher.

In addition to Edward's lessons today, I have some errands to run around Town, including a stop at Sir Anthony's office to find out what Mr. Frazer might be up to. I will also need to pick up some more petersham for waistbanding on the new sets of Turkish Trousers I am preparing.

I plan to drop a note to Lady Ottoline to ask her advice regarding a good dressmaker and cobbler who will be sympathetic to the clothing needs of active ladies such as ourselves.

I have other correspondence to catch up with, such as numerous ball invitations for Tonight! We must all send regrets, of course, since we only just returned to Town, and I haven't got any more formal ensembles.

(evening)

Today was just as busy as expected.

Edward agreed to listen in with me while Miss Whitnell and Miss Chigwidgeon attempt to teach Mrs Cuthbert the Hindoo language. It's like nothing I have ever tried, I must say. I think I ought to try to learn it, since so many of our household speak it fluently, but I just can't seem to make head nor tail of it. It's just too foreign. Mrs. Cuthbert is picking it up quickly, which makes me feel a fool for my inability.

I keep urging Edward to broaden his horizons, so as usual I must practice as I preach. How annoying.

Around midday, I went out to get the needed materials for sewing, and while I was out I looked in on Mr Willoughby, Sir Anthony's Secretary, to inquire after Mr. Frazer. I was surprised to learn as much as I did, the nature of Mr Frazer's assignment being rather delicate.

It seems he's been sent to Madrid to investigate rumors of Prussian Nobility aggregating there. Apparently there are similar rumors that agents of several different governments have been seen in Ruritania. Who knows when Mr Frazer will be able to return. I would even pray for his safety if I thought it would help.

Edward gave me a lovely gift this afternoon...he has invented a kind of earmuff arrangement which muffles sound, that I may wear when the household noise is too much for me. How attentive he is to have noticed that I am sensitive to loud noises. Or Perhaps I have been harsher than I realized on the many occasions when I have asked him to work more quietly, and he just wants me to stop haranguing him.

Mr Ramsay was here all afternoon, apparently showing Miss Whitmell how to set up some sort of mystical protection. I did my best to stay apart from it all.

Mr Ramsay also stayed to dinner, though I'm afraid we weren't the genial hosts we should have been. Sir Cosmo had been to luncheon with his grandfather, Lord Greyminster, and returned home in a state of distraction.

All of the household was on pins and needles, wondering what had so disturbed him. He finally asked Graves, Edward, Miss Chigwidgeon and Miss Whitnell to join him in his study. I only overheard part of the conversation, as Sir Cosmo turned on some sort of musical instrument, which made it very hard to hear from the Dining Room. Mrs Cuthbert unashamedly stood in the hallway to listen at the door. In any case, none of us were attending to Mr Ramsay's attempts at conversation.

Oh, the gist of the conversation in the study seems to have been about Sir Cosmo's Last Will, and Miss Chigwidgeon's, Edward's, and Graves' provisions therein. (Miss Whitnell was included in the gathering simply to be a chaperone for Miss Chigwidgeon in a roomful of men. Of course, Miss Whitnell rarely seems to keep secrets, so I imagine I'll hear about most of the conversation eventually.)

Tomorrow will be full of typically ladylike activities, though of course colored with all the peculiarities of our household. My list of tasks:
1) See Lady Ottoline to consult with her about suitable dressmakers for Reform Clothing.
2) Go again to the dressmakers who made up our ensembles for the ball at Lord Greyminster's Townhome.
3) Go to the jewelers to examine some items that Sir Cosmo had ordered for Miss Chigwidgeon,
4) Attend the Watercolour Exhibition at Claridge House in the late afternoon or evening, with Edward and any others who wish to see.

It must be time to get to bed, as I hear Mr. Caine speaking to Salmalin and Graves. If Mr. Caine is dragging Lt Wooster home, it must be very late.

Proceed to Pitched Headlong into Action

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