This morning I saw Mr Frazer off at the train station. I took it from his muttering that his father was berating him for allowing me to stay in the country while he returns to the city. I attempted to curtail Sgt Frazer's pestering by exclaiming that, as much as I would miss my husband, an extra week or two of decent fresh air would surely benefit my health and that of the babies. I am not sure if it helped.

The other point of interest was that while Benton was packing this morning, I noted a peculiar parcel which exuded a boggy odour. He has apparently been taking advantage of the time in the country to collect more Sphagnum cymbifolium. I have learned that he enlisted the aid of the stillroom maid to dry and store it, in exchange for tips on its collection and use. The stillroom maid looked so concerned when I questioned her, I had to find a roundabout way to assure her that I was not concerned about any impropriety in his dealings with her.

I received a letter from my Mother today, with congratulations and the expected invitation to come "home" for my confinement. Not too pressing an invitation as yet.

I also spent a decent four hours with Edward and George on our lessons. Edward's Latin has grown somewhat rusty, and when we switched to Greek, I noticed a tendency to lapse into what must be Russian.

We had better luck with our Natural History lessons, as we took a walk through the countryside and collected plant specimens. We brought several samples back to the house for identification, and did some drawings of our favorites.

When I finally released Edward from our makeshift schoolroom, he and George proceeded directly to the workshop and made intolerable racket until teatime.

Tuesday,11 April, 1871

Another productive day of studies, though somewhat curtailed by the arrival of some supplies and equipment for the Workshop. I couldn't keep Edward's attention after the crates arrived, and decided to let him go a bit early. Intolerable racket continues.

I took tea with the Salmalins in their snug little cottage. Mr Salmalin was slightly ill-at-ease at first, but Victoria made him sit down so she could prepare and serve tea, making it clear that he was not to wait upon me. I finally managed a tolerable conversation with him about the grounds of Edenfield Court and what interesting features we had each discovered here.

The Bury Times published an account of the recovery of the Harrae (they call it Hari) diamond, with a rather tawdry recounting of the Shorrock brothers' feud and plenty of nasty innuendo about Horace Shorrock and Sean Malloy.

Wednesday 12 April, 1871

A very quiet day about the house. After the usual exercises and breakfast, I spent three hours with Edward on Mathematics and Arabic.

In the Afternoon, Sir Cosmo and Lady Cowperthwaite, along with their entourages, called on Mr Elijah Balderstoke, at Chatterton Park. This was apparently to conduct the business of their B&C Locomotive Company. Lady Cowperthwaite and Mrs Salmalin were entertained Mrs Elijah Balderstoke and Mrs Applethwaite (the Balderstokes' sister). I suspect that Lady Cowperthwaite would have preferred to attend the meeting with the gentlemen, but she did her best to be friendly. By all reports, the other ladies present were all reasonably intelligent and interesting.

Friday, 14 April, 1871

Today Mr Chadwick came out from Town by train, bringing various messages for Sir Cosmo, and incidentally a note for me from my husband. He noted that Sean Malloy's trial began yesterday. He and the Inspector are both prepared to testify.

I approached Sir Cosmo today about arranging for shooting practice. I don't want to cause difficulty in the neighbourhood, but I simply daren't let my hard-earned skills go to pot. In fact, I am hoping to improve my skill with some different guns. I'd like to learn to use a rifle, since my pistol has only a modest range. I am hoping that Stuart and David might be able to assist me, as I understand that they are renowned for their marksmanship.

Saturday, 15 April, 1871

Several of the household went riding after exercises and breakfast. I was earnestly enjoined to stay behind. How annoying.

I went to visit Miss Helen instead, and helped her in the Conservatory. I hope for an opportunity to review the paper that Mr Shorrock and Helen are writing about their experiment. I have yet to hear in any meaningful detail about the process used to achieve the hibernation state.

Sunday, 16 April, 1871

I pled indisposition and avoided services today, and so had a leisurely morning with the London papers.

Sean Malloy was found guilty of the 4 counts of burglary yesterday. I look forward to receiving a more complete account from Benton. I also read Mr Oliphant's account of the story of the Diamond in the Times. He must have picked it up from the Bury Guardian, as I haven't seen him out here doing interviews.

Other interesting matters include strange goings-on in the New World. I thought that matters in Canada would be cleared up by now, since Miss Magda took a hand in it, but it would appear that further problems are plaguing the West. I wonder if our intervention will be required. I hope I won't have to go so far in my "delicate" condition.

Tuesday, 18 April, 1871

It appears that Lady Chigwidgeon is to be Presented in June. She is now receiving a remarkable quantity of congratulatory messages from ladies in the neighbourhood and all the Cowperthwaite connexions.

Thursday, 20 April, 1871

I had an interesting (and long overdue) discussion with Sir Cosmo about Wilhelmina's education. I indicated that while I am more than happy to act as her Governess, it would perhaps be well to expose her to a wider environment, where she could meet other girls and women. While George is a most worthy person, it is not seemly for Wilhelmina to spend all her time with him. And not good for her ego, I think, as he seems to defer to her as a servant is expected to do, and she has no peers to give her perspective of her own importance.

Frankly, Wilhelmina needs to see how lenient her upbringing here has been. She seems to take a very liberal view of her own right to self-determination, quite at odds with the rest of the world. While I would not wish to crush her intelligence, she must learn the techniques of passing for an ordinary young lady.

Sir Cosmo was in agreement, and indicated that he had already been in communication with Lady Ottoline about enrolling Wilhelmina in her School on a part-time basis.

Saturday 22 April, 1871

We have at last returned to London. While I was very happy to enjoy the fresh air out at Edenfield, being parted from my husband was certainly wearing thin. I've had to get my own chicken from the kitchen for weeks!

I am very happy to be reunited with my dear Benton, and he has been most solicitous. I think his father is now harrassing him for letting me come back to the unhealthy air of Town.

The season is in swing here, but it is very different this year from last. Lady Cowperthwaite is no longer a girl to be chaperoned, and Mrs Salmalin must now shepherd her through her first Season in her new role. All of us are trying to adjust to new circumstances.

The Salmalins have been assigned a room belowstairs, and Mrs Salmalin continues her retiring neither-fish-nor-fowl existence. Fortunately, the staff in this house have been selected for their adaptablity, and seem to be willing to accept her. And of course Graves would never tolerate anyone being rude to my friend.

I myself feel quite at loose ends. I have no paper to work on, and I cannot easily begin one, being in Town and away from any interesting research. I am occasionally called on to Chaperone Wilhelmina, and I spend 3-4 hours each day teaching Edward or Wilhelmina, whichever I find.

Still, I feel a lack of occupation and purpose. I can only spend so much of my time making up baby clothes. As tired as my body becomes, my mind is still restless.

Sunday, 23 April,1871

At church today, I was quite barraged with congratulations. Now that word has gotten round, all the ladies of the congregation were cooing over me and telling me about their various childbirth difficulties. I thought I should go mad if I heard one more woman's description of...well, I won't even go into it. Fortunately, they have no way of knowing about the twins, as long as I am careful not to let it slip.

Monday, 24 April, 1871

Today Edward and I began our lessons early in the day, as he and Sir Cosmo had an appointment later in the day with Mr Willoughby. The purpose of the appointment is as yet unknown to me.

I took advantage of the afternoon and traveled with Lady Cowperthwaite and Mrs Salmalin to the dressmakers. While they were consulting about Lady Cowperthwaite's Presentation gown, I popped over to the corsetmakers to invest in an adjustable maternity corset.

I returned to the dressmakers as the others were finishing their planning, and requested a new, very plain, dress be patterned for my expanding figure. The dressmaker consented to make up a calico model, and next week I can come for a fitting. I will then have the pieces cut out and I can finish the dress myself. I am very lucky that this dressmaker is willing to work within my very modest means. Of course, our set is largely responsible for this dressmaker's rising fortunes, so she is no doubt willing to make concessions for us.

Tuesday, 25 April, 1871

Today's letter from Mother featured the long-dreaded Advice.
She wants me to return to Bridgwater, and I will need to contrive some very convincing reasons to avoid being harangued.

I mentioned this dilemma to Mrs Cuthbert, saying that I feared I would need to engage a Doctor here in London in order to assuage Mother's concerns (though this would be very aggravating to me). She had the excellent suggestion of engaging a Midwife instead. This would be much better than having some strange man prodding me and prescribing nasty mixtures. I'd rather get advice from someone with a more personal understanding of childbearing.

Mrs Cuthbert said that she would make inquiries for a suitable midwife.

"And while we are on the topic of advice, dear" she said then, "perhaps I could mention one thing. Your babies will be starting to get much bigger from now on, and they will need room to grow." She paused, and I tried to look encouraging. "I think it would be better for them and for you if you gave up wearing a corset."

I am sure that I looked entirely stupid, blinking and opening my mouth. I felt stupid. Of Course I should give up the corset. Why did I not see that? How can TWO infants develop within my frame if I compress them?

Not that I really want them to grow particularly large.

In the afternoon, after our lessons, Edward instigated an outing to see two plays performed as part of the Shakespeare Birthday Festival at the Royal Court Theater.
I have never much cared for Richard III, and I felt especially strong revulsion at the fate of the little princes. I suppose that means either the acting was effective or I have gone soft in the head.
I also had an unusual feeling watching Comedy of Errors, and I started worrying about whether my children will be hard to tell one from the other.

I had this odd notion that the company managers had singled me out and selected plays guaranteed to prick my current sensibilities.
Mr Frazer, who accompanied us, seemed similarly pensive, though I couldn't say if his thoughts were tending as mine were.

Wednesday 26 April, 1871

Today was, on the whole, an excellent day.

I started with the usual exercises, though I felt rather odd and soft moving about without my accustomed corset.

I then reported to Lady Ottoline's School for swimming practice (which Mrs Cuthbert has approved), and also to use her firing range to practice with my pistol.

Edward has returned to his duties at the shipyard, which gave me a little time to practice with the lockpicks which the Marquis so obligingly acquired for me. I still find the hairpins easier to use, just as Benton showed me, but he tells me that there are many locks which hairpins cannot open easily.

The crown of the day (indeed of the week, the month even):
the Moth paper has at last been published in The Yorkshire Naturalist.

This evening my friends held a little party in my honor, with several members of the Naturalist Society attending. This is the first I've seen of Mr Scuddamore in some time, and he was particularly effusive in his congratulations, on account of both the paper and of the Condition. He is such a dear man.

I mentioned to him and to various others that I am casting about for a new project or two to undertake, since I am unable to continue fieldwork for the time being. Some seemed to assume that I would give up this work completely due to Motherhood, but I disabused them of that idea.

I have hopes of doing some illustrations or reviews for some of my colleagues' works in the next few months.

Mr Trowdon tells me that there is an Exhibition planned to coincide with the publication of the book I had been assisting him with over the winter. The exhibition will encompass the life and works of Sir Meacham Murbles. That will be some time in July.

I thoroughly enjoyed the evening, feeling more hopeful about the continuation of my career than I have in some weeks.

I am extremely tired now, and my feet have swollen dreadfully, but I am still content. And here is Benton with a plate of toast and our book.

Thursday, 27 April, 1871

As part of today's lesson, I asked Edward for a summary of yesterday's activities at the shipyards.

Part of this discussion included Edward's forthright assessment of the progress of the school established for the rivet boys. Edward seemed to think that the lessons were not as challenging or as useful as they could be. I pointed out that it would be difficult to develop lessons suitable for a group with such varied education as these children. But this topic started me on a train of thought.

This evening, after a short consultation with Sir Cosmo, I sent a note off to Mr Reed, volunteering my services as teacher for one afternoon per week.
I don't know how well I'll take to teaching a large group of boys, as opposed to a small group of girls, but it seems a worthwhile effort. If one is going to send such children to school at all, one had best ensure that the quality of instruction will make optimum use of their limited school time.

Today I also mentioned to Graves that I am considering taking on a nurserymaid, and asked him to recommend anyone he thought might be suitable. He knows better than any what the requirements are for a domestic in this household, and he would have the best knowledge as to a capable, intelligent and levelheaded person. He says he will give the matter some thought.

I had been reluctant to consider a nurserymaid heretofore, because of the expense, because of the difficulty of finding a truly suitable candidate, and because I am reluctant to relinquish the care of my child to any other. However, the news that I will have two babies to contend with has forced me to think again.

Friday, 28 April

I had a dreadful time with Edward today...Although he was not unruly per se, he simply could not pay attention to the lessons. Later, I found him engrossed in writing some sort of long document. Before I could learn its contents, he whisked it away. He insisted that it was personal correspondence. I could see that this was not true, but just then we were called to tea, and I decided not to pursue it.

The two Charles Street households will be making an expedition to the evening Royal Gallery of Illustration to see young Mr Graham's new play. It has been very well reviewed, I'm told. It is a comedy about furriers. I don't generally attend such things, but Mr Graham is a friend of the League, and one must make the effort out of kindness at least.

Saturday, 29 April, 1871

Edward's distraction appears to originate from a dispute between a newly-formed Newsboy Union and the majority of newpapers in town. Many of Edward's friends are employed as newsboys, so he is no doubt concerned for them. I just hope he won't become embroiled with their dispute to the detriment of his studies.

In any case, I spent more of my time with Wilhelmina today, as she was invited to call upon Mrs Moriarty, wife of our friend the Vice-Admiral.

Mrs Moriarty is a fine-looking woman in her forties, keeping a very neat and tasteful house. She strikes me as intelligent and sensible. She was very circumspect in conversation until she was sure of what we knew about her husband's nephew Lt Pellew.

We conversed on many topics. Wilhelmina made a good impression on the whole, though we did have a conversational difficulty on the topic of poetry– Mrs Moriarty mentioned a poet she favors, and Wilhelmina scoffed that his work was drivel. I diverted the topic to a different poet, and then on to other arts.

They discovered a common interest in music. Mrs Moriarty plays the pianoforte and seems quite devoted to music, and Wilhelmina has been learning to play the flute and already shows considerable natural ability.

Mrs Moriarty mentioned a few of Wilhelmina's cousins, and was surprised that Wilhelmina had read some of the works of her cousin James, who is presently a visiting lecturer in Mathematics at the University of Heidelberg. And understood them.

The visit was a success, I think, and Mrs Moriarty made a favorable impression on Wilhelmina. I can at least hope so.

Sunday, 30 April, 1871

Today I stayed home from services. Mr Frazer went without me, after I assured him repeatedly that I was really alright, I just needed a little extra rest. I roused enough to attend Exercises. Really, it was just that I couldn't face the crush of cooing matrons at St Johns.

In the afternoon, Mrs Cuthbert, Mr Frazer and I went to No.18 for lunch. I went particularly hoping to speak with Mrs Salmalin, to invite her to join me in learning Russian from Mr Frazer. She appeared after lunch, and accepted my invitation, subject to Lady Cowperthwaite's approval, of course.

While I was there, Sir Cosmo asked if I would review his latest paper, "Physiological response to tempurature change in several Salamandra species" I was delighted! He said he could have a copy ready for me in a day or two.

It is becoming clear to me that Edward or Wilhelmina is quite involved in the Newsboy Union Movement The Newsboy Strike has quite paralysed all the newspapers except the Telegraph, which has been the first to come to agreement with the Union. This effort appears to be exceptionally well organised, considering that the members of this union are mostly between seven and seventeen years of age, and not a well-educated group.

I detect a more savvy political bent than I had heretofore suspected in Wilhelmina. I'm not sure how much of the organisation to credit her with. Who would have thought that a wide-ranging group of variously desperate boys could be brought to work together with such firm purpose?

Monday, 1 May, 1871

Today was Wilhelmina's first day of class at Lady Ottoline's school. She came home very tired, and I could not get her to tell me much of what she did and learned.

It was also my first day at the Shipyard School. I will be teaching mathematics particularly. The children really have a wide range of ability. Some of them don't read or write yet, and others have plainly learned to read from Edward.

I started by reviewing numbers and showing them the use of the basic signs, but I found they understood more if I posed them situational problems. They understand money well enough, and anything relating to food. We shall see how many problems I can invent about rivets.

Today the Daily News has appeared along with the Telegraph in the hands of the newsboys. Both papers have printed the list of demands of the Newsboy Union. They all seem so reasonable to me and no doubt to the rest of the news-reading public, having to do with a modest increase in their pay and a list of improved working conditions.

Tuesday, 3 May, 1871

This morning I felt extraordinarily sluggish and tired. I felt a little more lively after exercises, and ate a rather large breakfast.

Almost everyone of the combined League households took an outing to the International Exhibition today. The exhibits were interesting, on the whole, though I felt that I have seen far more advanced examples of the ingenuity of Britain in my day-to-day interactions with the League than most of the rather absurd inventions on display.

I tired far more quickly than any of the others, and so I settled myself in an out-of-the-way spot near one of the fountains. Lady Cowperthwaite (not the least bit tired!) kindly asked Tattvick to look after me. She and then David took it in turns to stay near me and be sure I was alright. I felt rather sorry to deprive them of the enjoyment of the exhibition. I eventually regained my strength and we caught up with the others in time to see a display on new uses of electricity.

I spoke with Edward at some length about the plans of the Newsboy Union. He (or perhaps it is Wilhelmina) is in fact a ringleader of this effort, and has quite a detailed plan to manipulate the various papers into compliance. So far it seems to be working. I asked a few pointed questions and drew his attention to a few possible risks to the striking labourers, but he seemed to have ready answers and a surprisingly detailed understanding of current labour laws.

The Union seems to have at least one benefactor of considerable means, who has contributed to a fund from which striking carriers are paid an amount comparable to what they would earn from selling papers. Edward assures me that this benefactor will be repaid from dues paid in by the Newsboys.

I also expressed concern about Wilhelmina being associated with this Union, and I was assured that while Edward occasionally visits the Union's headquarters (in a rented warehouse), Wilhelmina never does. Edward mainly meets with Union participants at other locations about the city, and information and instructions are conveyed via a reliable and near untraceable network of street urchins.

Wednesday, 4 May 1871

Today after the morning's effort's at Lady Ottoline's, I called on Mr Scuddamore. He has asked me to execute illustrations for his latest work on aphids. I am delighted, of course. I brought a copy of the text back with me, and a jar of the aphids in question. Sir Cosmo has invited me to use the laboratory at No.18.

When I returned to our rooms after the afternoon's outing, I found Mr Frazer engrossed in a stitchery project. He showed me the fur pieces he had purchased recently when his work took him to the vicinity of a furrier.

He was making a kind of infant carrier, in a style in use by some of the reindeer-herding Chukchi people. He said mothers can carry their infants through terrible blizzards and the infants are entirely comfortable and safe. He said he was sorry that he couldn't get reindeer fur, and he hoped that the rabbit and fox pelts would do.

I praised his workmanship and the selection of lovely furs. I was sorry to point out that fur carriers would be rather too warm for England. In August.

The idea is a good one, however, and I am resolved to make up something similar in a wadded calico. And, if he makes the carriers large enough to grow into, perhaps we can use them in Winter.

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