Today’s travel was made longer by the antics of my sister-in-law.

Miss Chigwidgeon, Mr Salmalin, and I were ready, with our trunks out at the gate in plenty of time for the carriage-ride to the train station. We arrived at Stoke-on-Trent and took the morning train to Chester. We arrived as scheduled in Chester, only to find no carriage awaiting us. I waited, vexation growing with every passing moment. My wrath must have been noticeable, for Salmalin suggested that I try practising one of the breathing exercises he had given me during our time at the cottage. His comment was quite helpful, and after a few minutes of quiet, during which we were the only people left on the platform, I was able to enjoy the sunny spring day once more.

Once it became apparent that no carriage would come for us in the foreseeable future, I hired one that took us and our luggage just past Thornford to the Whitnell Estate. Fortunately, I had planned for this eventuality and had sufficient funds to complete the journey. It was much too fine a day to waste on vexatious in-laws.

Upon our arrival, Emily claimed that Mother had told her we would be coming on the afternoon train and, on the surface, was very apologetic. I wish she would realise that a reputation for competence only makes it more transparent when one is slighting uncomfortable relations (as I know she sees me as a blight upon her personal landscape). While I was distracted by Mother’s greeting, Miss Chigwidgeon and Mr Salmalin were whisked from my side. It was only when I turned to introduce Miss Chigwidgeon, that I found them missing.

A quarter of an hour later we were reunited. Emily had mistaken Miss Chigwidgeon for Tattvick and had sent her off to the servant quarters to settle in there. Miss Chigwidgeon did not at first realise what was happening. Mr Salmalin followed Miss Chigwidgeon, she being his primary charge, and he, technically being also a servant. How Emily could mistake Namaste for Tattvick, I have no idea. Namaste’s skin is much fairer, her hair is a shade darker, her clothing is much finer than I could afford for Tattvick, and she is at least four years older. Finally, Namaste wears eyeglasses and Tattvick does not.

I was, well, ‘annoyed’ doesn’t accurately reflect my feelings of the moment, ‘angry’ is a better word, but really lacks something. I think ‘towering rage’ might be the best description of my mood at that moment. A quelling look from Mr Salmalin sent me back to my breathing, and, as Miss Chigwidgeon was inclined to laugh it off, I decided not to make a scene in front of the entire household, as much as I would have liked to.

We are now settled into our proper rooms. Miss Chigwidgeon’s room is next to mine. Mr Salmalin ostensibly has a room in the servants’ quarters, but if I know him he will be prowling the house at night finding the best place to keep watch over his charge.

We had a very polite dinner. Anne, her husband Roger and their children Ronald and Hilda were there, as well as Elizabeth and her daughter Maggie. Elizabeth’s husband is a barrister and is in London on a complex case. I hope he gets his fees this time. Once dinner was over, Miss Chigwidgeon and I chatted with Mother, Anne, and Elizabeth while the children were put to bed. I did bring a few trinkets to give my nieces and nephew, but decided to wait until morning to relieve their anxiety about any gifts that might be forthcoming from Aunt Victoria.

Miss Chigwidgeon came to my room as we were preparing for bed. I warned her that Mother had insisted upon having her personal maid attend us in the morning. I told her to think of this as practice for when she and Sir Cosmo are married, not that she will be required to have a lady’s maid at home, but if she and Sir Cosmo go visiting, there will be certain expectations of behavior, and one of those is allowing for the assistance of a maid.

I have spend the past half-hour updating this record and will now douse the lights and try to rest.

21 June 1870, Tuesday

The weather went from fair to foul overnight. The rain is pouring down and does not look likely to stop. I had hoped to take Miss Chigwidgeon out riding today and show her the country-side. I would also like to investigate the local standing stones. We had a good breakfast and retired to the library, Miss Chigwidgeon to pen some letters home, and I to catch up on the news, as we had no newspaper while we were at the cottage.

I was pleased to read in the 18 June edition of the Times, that Sir Cosmo has been appointed as Royal Commissioner for Her Majesty’s Scientific Expeditions Abroad. This was the same title he was given before we set out for the Cape Verdi Islands. I had no idea that such an appointment was planned. I pointed the item out to Miss Chigwidgeon and she smiled, as she does at anything that causes her to think of her fiancé. She showed me a rather snide editorial in the Standard that claimed that Sir Cosmo was only given the ‘meaningless commission’ as a sop to his dying grandfather. If only they knew! We had a good laugh. After thinking about it, I became a bit apprehensive. After all we had quite a dramatic foreign adventure the last time he held such an appointment, could something be in the works now? I did not share my train of thought with Miss Chigwidgeon.

Something that caught my attention from yesterday’s paper: Parliament has ratified a proposal from the Dominion of Canada: the area formerly known as Prince Rupert's Land has been officially declared a Province of the Dominion of Canada, from now on to be known as Manitoba. I wonder if any of the activities that the Dragon Spirit told me about are happening there?

~Lunch~

We had a very informal luncheon and agreed to take tea with Mother in her rooms later today. I wish we had some place we could practice our hand-to-hand unobserved. However, with the rain pouring down we are trapped inside for the time being.

We did spend some time working on Miss Chigwidgeon’s comportment in preparation for the engagement dinner next month. Right now we are working on proper forms of address from Royalty down though laborers and tradesmen. I’m also working on teaching her the various names she will carry as she moves through engagement and marriage. She took the opportunity to ask me why Miss Sinclair and I had stopped calling her Miss Namaste and started calling her Miss Chigwidgeon earlier this spring. I explained to her that we had done so after she had attended her first ball, and perforce, had come out into society. I don’t know that she was terribly distressed to learn that she would only be addressed by her first name by her closest intimates from now on. Though really, very few people in Britain have any idea that her lovely-sounding first name really means, roughly, ‘hello’ or ‘greetings’, unlike my name, which, being that of both our Queen and Princess Royal, was bestowed on many of the daughters of Britain over the past thirty years. Regardless, Lady Cowperthwaite will take a bit of getting used to, for both of us.

Miss Chigwidgeon discovered that several more chapters of "Murder and Brimstone - A New Kid Rocket Adventure" have been published in the Weekly Companion. We shall repair to my room and catch up on the story of ‘Kid Rocket’ and his adventures with a rather dense Naval Lieutenant who bears a striking resemblance, in all but name, to our Lieutenant Wooster. I enjoy listening to Miss Chigwidgeon, so she has agreed to read to me while I catch up on some of my long-neglected needlework. Just for fun, she will try to translate the tale into Hindi as she reads. That should challenge us both and provide stimulation for our mental faculties, at least.

~Tea~

We took tea with Mother in her rooms. Her maid waited on us. It was difficult keeping the conversation going at times. Miss Chigwidgeon was on her best behavior and so was quiet for much of the visit. Even I found it difficult introduce suitable topics of conversation, when I must first consider my words carefully, lest the reveal information about our work for the Office or anything that could only be explained by that work. Fortunately, I hit upon the Cuthberts’ move as a topic of conversation and so we were able to talk about the difficulties of setting up a new household, which Mother and the town servants did every year while Father was alive, with special attention paid in the years that I and my sisters came out. From there we segued into news of the family. As I had heard directly from Anne and Elizabeth at dinner last night, Mother shared what she had heard from my other siblings.

Mary seems to be thriving in vocation. Though she is only allowed to write home four times each year. The contemplative life of an Anglican sister seems to suit her, though, if I remember correctly it didn’t save any on dowry costs– not that I begrudge her or the church the money. I just remember Emily commenting on it in one of her letters to me when I was in India. Emily was certainly better disposed toward me then. Of course I was thousands of miles away with a household of my own then. I think she saw my divorce as a personal affront to her. As if I came home with my life in shambles to spite her.

I seem to have wandered from the topic. Margaret is settling into married life. She was married just a few months before I came home– no sign of children yet, but it is early days, and with the exception of Elizabeth, we Whitnell women do not seem to bear early (or at all, in my case). Betty is but 16, but waging a campaign to come out next season. The mourning year will be over by then, but I think 17 is too young for such things. Mother agrees, and for once, so does Emily. I suggested that if Betty becomes too insistent they could always send her off to finishing school for a year. However, I am afraid that Lady Ottoline’s school, however practical the courses, would not be allowed for Betty, I wish Father were alive to help sort though all of this. I get the feeling that a regular marriage and life as wife and mother are not her path either, there is a spark in my little sister.... there I go again, I’m not Mrs Cuthbert. I can’t see the future, only the past, and only then when I tap into the gifts given to me by Great Aunt Hethalyn.

Mother reminded me that my younger brother James is still at Oxford. He will be taking his degree in another year or so if his studies go well, another reason for Betty to stay home a bit longer. Mother says he is living a sober, respectable life and brings home good marks from all of his teachers. She suggested that I have him to tea, if that would not be an imposition on Sir Cosmo. That had never occurred to me. However, I think I shall use the excuse of the impending engagement party to put off that suggestion for a time. I don’t really want one of my siblings to penetrate the sanctuary I have built for myself at Sir Cosmo’s house. Father would have understood, were he still alive, but I am afraid that my new household is beyond my brother’s understanding– even my younger, more understanding brother.

Once we caught up on the news of my family, Miss Chigwidgeon had relaxed enough to share a few appropriate stories of the ordeal of preparing for the engagement dinner. I was very pleasantly surprised. Mother in turn gave her some good advice on dealing with people like Emily (not that she couched it in those terms of course). I was surprised to learn that Mother had been required to learn to cope with such behavior as a result of my father’s perceived eccentricities. The most sage advice she had was simply to outlast your critics. If you survive them then you get to write their obituary and ensure they are remembered properly (or not at all).

Once done with tea we went for a short stroll in the garden. The rain let up for a bit, though throughout our walk we did not go far from the house, as it looked to pour down upon us at any moment. Mr Salmalin joined us on the walk, ostensibly to carry the umbrella and keep us from getting too wet should it start to rain again. I am certain he has been keeping a discreet eye on us this past day, but we cannot really talk or be together, the three of us, as we can at either Sir Cosmo’s or the cottage. As it was, we talked in Hindi, a language I am fairly certain none of my family or their servants know, so Miss Chigwidgeon and I were able to talk frankly and update Salmalin to the events in the house. I had not really realized how much I had missed him until he joined us on our walk.

22 June 1870, Wednesday

The rain cleared off last night, allowing me to plan an outing for Miss Chigwidgeon, Mr Salmalin and myself. John has allowed us access to the stables to borrow horses and Mrs Grant had her kitchen staff prepare a picnic. I went down to the lab, which is still mostly intact, though Our Employer’s agent did remove Father’s inventory of chemicals, many of which could have become dangerous had they been left unattended.

This was my first time down in the lab since learning that Father had been murdered there, rather than dying of a stroke, as the corner determined. The effects of the Etheric Pulse Gun can mimic the look of stroke or other sudden, unexplained causes of death. It is strange to be one of a small group of people who know how my father actually died, and to not be able to share that information with my family.

While down in the lab I collected a few tools should the standing stones need clearing. While doing so, I wondered if Father had kept a journal of his work, and if so, where it might be. Since part of his work involved consulting with Our Employer’s office, any journal he may have kept might have ended up in their files. Also, our adversaries, who stole the Autinite Batteries from Father’s lab, may have stumbled across it. The more I think on it the more I wonder. He did have a shelf of lab notebooks, in which he recorded his results in a simple code the two of us devised years ago, but there was never any reference to who he was consulting with, and I realize only now that he was careful to make it appear, even to me, that he was working independently even on projects where he was acting as a scientific consultant.

I did another search of the lab but didn’t find anything other than the papers I had seen before. Maybe tomorrow Miss Chigwidgeon and I will come down here and put things in better order. I would like her to see where my Father spent much of his time, and where I spent much of my girlhood– at those times I could escape the notice of Miss Conner. Father aided me in this by overseeing parts of my education. It helped that John showed neither interest nor aptitude in Chemistry. However, John did turn out to be an excellent property manager. I don’t know that Father realized how much of the work John took over, freeing Father to pursue his experiments. I only really noticed when I returned from India.

Back to the days events. Once I was finished gathering supplies, I met Miss Chigwidgeon and Mr Salmalin in the stables. I chose Pickle for Miss Chigwidgeon to ride. He is an old hand at schooling new riders. I took Sarah-Horse, she made it very clear that she has missed our regular riding sessions. I wish I could afford to keep a horse in London, but Sir Cosmo’s townhouse is rather full and he does not have horses, or a groom or stable hands to maintain them. Perhaps I will raise the idea with Mrs Cuthbert. They keep horses for their carriages. I would have to consult with Tattvick and see if our income could support such a thing.

I suggested that Salmalin take Pumpkin, another of our old hands. He and Pickle get along well and follow each other’s lead. Miss Chigwidgeon and I were limited to the side-saddle, but it was good practice for her and we managed to cover quite a bit of ground during our ramblings. This was the first substantial exercise that we had managed since arriving. I showed Miss Chigwidgeon and Salmalin one of my favorite horse-paths and we found the standing stones that Great-Aunt Hethalyn mentioned in her visitation. We spent some time clearing the stones though they were not terribly overgrown.

Once finished, we had our picnic and I gathered some wild-flowers for an arrangement. We managed to be out of the house most of the day, returning just in time to dress for dinner. Miss Chigwidgeon muttered mutinously about having to wear a special gown just for dinner, though even she had to admit that our riding clothes, and ourselves, were much in need of a wash after our day of vigorous activity and close proximity to Pumpkin, Pickle, and Sarah-Horse. Dinner was splendid. Mrs Grant had made a lovely meal, I believe her spies, the serving maids, had reported which items Miss Chigwidgeon had relished and which items had languished on her plate. Miss Chigwidgeon and I had good appetite after our busy day and were able to do justice to the full meal. Conversation was steered to neutral topics by mutual agreement of Emily and Mother. Miss Chigwidgeon, trying her hand at full participation in the evening ritual of dinner and conversation did very well until dessert, when she asked about Anne’s pregnancy in rather balder terms than my family is used to, particularly in mixed company. No one was so bad mannered as to remark upon it, but I could tell that Miss Chigwidgeon picked up on the stunned silence that briefly greeted her remark, before conversation was steered a more appropriate direction. I am afraid that Miss Chigwidgeon may have been led astray my Mother’s and my rather frank conversation during tea yesterday. It is an easy mistake to make, especially given the frankness tolerated in Sir Cosmo’s household.

The League does not have time for delicate circumlocutions, as we are often busy with weightier matters. I’m afraid Miss Chigwidgeon was silent for the rest of dinner, unless asked a direct question and, even then, her usual sparkle was dimmed.

After dinner I went out to find Mr Salmalin. It occurred to me that he, in his role of servant, might be better able to pass my warning about dangerous people, on to the household staff. I wanted to ask his opinion and find out what approach he would take.

Mr Salmalin considered the situation for a few minutes after I presented my concerns to him. He then agreed that he would have better luck talking to the servants. He mentioned that he has already had a few interesting conversations with some of them, and he believes he knows best how to broach the topic in a manner that will be taken seriously, at least with three of them.

He went on to specifically mention that Mrs Grant still carries a small gift given to her by Hethalyn, many years ago, when Mrs. Grant was a scullery maid and I was a small child. It's a good luck charm, of sorts. I wonder what it is. I would be interested to see something my Great Aunt had handled in life.

I’m afraid my strange infatuation with Salmalin has not yet run its course. I found myself noticing how nicely the footman’s uniform of knee breaches sets off his fine, well-muscled legs. I must suppress such thoughts, as giving them full reign will only serve to distract me.

Upon my return, I found Miss Chigwidgeon settled in the Library to read a letter from Sir Cosmo that came while we were out. She shared that a Mr Balderstoke, apparently a friend from Sir Cosmo’s school days and an partner in the B & C Great Locomotive Company, will be staying at Sir Cosmo’s for some weeks.

She handed a page of the letter to me to read, as it consisted solely of a report on Edward’s progress in French over the past week. Apparently his desire to read and respond to Sir Cosmo’s critique of his design is proving quite effective. Sir Cosmo reports finding three of the household dictionaries of French in unusual places in the house. He has resorted to buying several new copies so as to have one available in all likely locations that Edward might be working.

I sat and read the news while Miss Chigwidgeon re-read her letter several times.

Several newspapers report that Emperor Napoleon III has appointed himself Supreme Marshall of France. I was almost sorry to read that, Admiral LeCoq, who had been Supreme Marshall and Minister of War, has been relieved of both posts and appointed Ambassador to the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. The Standard claimed that he had been exiled in favor of the Emperor’s cousin, who had been the ambassador to the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies before being recalled.

I do not know what to think of this news. Things have been quiet on the diplomatic front this Season (unless, of course you know what has been going on in Our Employer’s office). I do hope this latest uproar will settle quickly. Admiral LeCoq, while by no means a friend to England, acted very honorably in the affair on St. Damien Island, and were it not for him and the gallant Lieutenant Locksley we would probably be either dead or slaves to Igrazel and not contemplating a lovely week in the country with annoying family members.

23 June 1870, Thursday

Today Miss Chigwidgeon, Mr Salmalin, and I went into Chester. Mrs Gotesoke decided that the risk of inviting a divorced woman to tea, was outweighed by the entertainment (and gossip) value of meeting the fiancee of Sir Cosmo and said fiancee’s exotic footman. I accepted the invitation since I know that Mrs Gotesoke is really a level-headed woman named Alice who shares some of my sympathies for reform dress and more equitable treatment of women. She does a much better job passing for a respectable matron than I ever did (even when I was married).

Our carriage brought us into town in plenty of time so we amused ourselves by looking in at several shops and found that the news stand at the train station carried the London Illustrated Weekly. Once Miss Chigwidgeon discovered that "Kid Rocket Meets Atlas O'Flaherty, part 1" by George Pennifeather, was printed in the current edition, nothing would do but us to purchase a copy. It should make for interesting reading this evening.

We had a lovely tea, Salmalin was mysterious and aloof, Miss Chigwidgeon was as polite and well mannered as if she had not just that very morning knocked the salt cellar half-way across the breakfast room with an accidental sweep of her elbow. (One disadvantage to our continued program of exercise is that Miss Chigwidgeon’s accidents have more power than in the past.)

After tea we returned home in time to dress for supper, an uneventful meal. Now we are ready to retire for the evening. Miss Chigwidgeon is going to read to me while I work on some of my sewing. I have yet to broach the subject of vampires with my family. I am reluctant to do so, because it will only confirm some of their fears about the dangers of London and being associated with Sir Cosmo. I know from previous letters from Anne and Mother that Emily has made some quite disparaging remarks about Sir Cosmo (though she has refrained from saying anything during this visit, so far). Regardless, I must pass on some sort of warning before I return to London on Monday.

25 June 1870, Saturday

Yesterday was a complete and unmitigated disaster.

My family is pig-headed, stubborn, willful, and just plain difficult. After a quiet day in the house writing letters and wishing the rain would stop, we finally dressed for dinner. I had left all of my magik tools and books locked up so as avoid arousing suspicion or, even worse, curiosity. So I had not even the distraction of my research.

We dressed for dinner at 7:30. Elizabeth’s husband came up from the City to join us for the weekend. Present at the meal were my Mother (Mrs Phillip Whitnell), Mr and Mrs John Whitnell, Mr and Mrs Matthew Parks, Mr and Mrs Richard Haywood, Mrs Jeffrey St John, Miss Betty Whitnell, Miss Chigwidgeon, and myself. The children took their dinner in the nursery with Miss Connor’s successor, Miss Cross. Margaret’s husband was not able to be with us as he is away on John’s behalf. Jeffrey is turning into an able assistant to John, a situation that works out well most of the time, and gives Margaret a reason to live on the estate. She and Jeffrey share the Auntie cottage down the road a way. James, as I have mentioned before, is away at school and Mary is prevented by her vows from visiting us, and by the time news reaches her of the latest outbreak of Whitnell family insanity she will have reason to give thanks for those vows.

What happened, simply, is this, near the end of dinner, as I had nearly all of the adults of the Whitnell family in one place, I chose to raise the issue of cautions that should be taken as a result of Sir Cosmo’s emergence onto the London scene. I put it as delicately as I could. Saying only that certain people affected with some sort of insanity, had decided that they were vampires and that Sir Cosmo, and certain members of his household were their enemy.

This created an uproar at the table. I was prepared for this, knowing my family as I do, and I might have won through with nothing more than some mild mockery for my fears from John and Mother. However, at that point Emily decided to put her oar in. Once she made the sly statement that birds of a feather flock together, insinuating that Sir Cosmo himself was insane (not to mention me by association) Miss Chigwidgeon entered the fray. The week living under Emily’s rule had become too much for her and she laid into Emily with a ferocity I had never seen before. She said that she had never experienced such uncivil behavior before coming to England, as well as several things that made me realize what a loyal friend I have in this girl, and how much I never want her to be angry with me. I said a few things to Emily that I should have kept behind my teeth. By this time Miss Chigwidgeon was pounding on the table as she made one of her points (during this time my sisters and brothers-in-law were all staring slack-jawed at her and me). The table made a horrible crunching groaning noise and a jagged split caused the (now two) halves of the table to tilt inwards and collapse.

Salmalin was suddenly at her side, one hand resting just above her shoulder, not touching her but somehow calming her, which is perhaps the only reason she did not scramble over what was left of the table and assault my sister-in-law. As much as I might have enjoyed such a scene at the time, upon reflection, I was very glad of his intervention.

Emily missed the signal entirely, so caught up in her own invective was she. She turned on me, calling Miss Chigwidgeon names that I did not think a well brought up lady like Emily was supposed to know. I moved closer to Miss Chigwidgeon and was about to say something about packing and leaving that very night when John stepped into the fray. He took Emily aside and they had a very heated, whispered conversation in the alcove between the dining room and breakfast room. My sisters and their husbands gathered up the china that had slid to the floor (most of it, amazingly, still whole) and set in on the side board.

I could hear Emily arguing with John that we should be put out this night and never welcomed back to the house but I felt very far away from everyone at that moment, and very cold. I felt the warmth of Mr Salmalin’s hand as it hovered behind my elbow, not touching, but perhaps preparing to.... I don’t know... Then he whispered, “She’s afraid of you.”

I had no idea what he was talking about then. There was no one in that room who would fear me. I was just odd old Victoria, ‘See what happens when you let girls play with chemicals? They divorce their husbands and move home.’

After a bit, John returned to the dining room to say that Emily felt unwell and would be going upstairs for a rest. He suggested, commanded really, that we adjourn to the library and take our dessert there while the servants cleared the dining room. We all shuffled off, Salmalin not leaving Miss Chigwidgeon, for which I am sure the more observant of my family were grateful. John offered Mother his arm and we all pretended to a calm that was not really there.

Dessert was very strained but John, Mother, Elizabeth, and Anne made valiant attempts a normal conversation, though Miss Chigwidgeon and I were not taxed to participate. After dessert we escaped to our rooms as John said good night to our sisters and their husbands. We heard him, Betty, and Mother rattling around on the main floor late into the evening. Salmalin, determining that Miss Chigwidgeon was not going to come to harm, nor was she in danger of harming anyone, disappeared into the servant’s quarters, or into the rafters, who knows with that man.

I spent a very restless night not sleeping, but playing over and over again the scene in the dining room. Miss Chigwidgeon crept into my room after midnight to say that she was sorry if she embarrassed me but that was all she was sorry for and that I shouldn’t have to put up with Emily’s vindictive behavior. I sent her off to bed with the promise that she, at least, would try to get some sleep this night. She has nothing to be sorry for in defending Sir Cosmo. He is certainly worthy of her protection.

Miss Chigwidgeon and I were up very early and decided that we would cede the battlefield and leave the house to John and Emily for the day. We hunted up Salmalin and the horses and rode out again. We spend the day wandering my family’s estate and talking about home. Home for me seems to be where Miss Chigwidgeon and Salmalin are now, not to mention all of the other worthy folk of the League of the Golden Clematis. I can only hope that my warning against vampires did not get completely lost in all the shouting. When I mentioned this concern to Miss Chigwidgeon, Salmalin said that he felt he was able to convey effective warnings to several of the servants of the household and that they in turn will pass the warning on to other servants of the other branches of the family. That is all we can do now.

I brought this journal with me and am writing on it under the open sky. I am glad that Miss Chigwidgeon and Salmalin cannot read the code that I write in, not that either would read this diary on purpose without my permission, but I know how easy it is to read a stray word or phrase when a book is open. They are currently working on Miss Chigwidgeon’s unique self defense regimen. I will join them soon and work out some of the stiffness from today’s ride and last night’s scene. I wonder what the gossips of the county will say when the grapevine brings them the news?

Salmalin is indicating that it is my turn, and Miss Chigwidgeon looks a bit winded.

26 June 1870, Sunday

On our way home from our ride yesterday, Salmalin said “Your brother loves you. Your sister-in-law fears that love.” I suppose he is right. Both John and Emily came to me separately after we got home from our ride. Emily didn’t say much, just that she was sorry to have behaved so badly. She confessed that she had purposely withheld the carriage upon our arrival (one of Miss Chigwidgeon’s accusations) and apologized for provoking Miss Chigwidgeon by slandering Sir Cosmo. She was very dignified and there was no great warmth between us. John came by later to say that I was still welcome and that, if I ever needed him, he would be there for me. I just never seem to need him in the way that he needs to be needed. I’m not very good a meeting the expectations of men, brothers or husbands, it seems. I said a much to him. He surprised me by enveloping me in a brotherly embrace and saying that at least my visits were never boring.

The fight last night seems to have cleared the air in some way that I do not understand. Mother seems pleased with herself and something seems to have shifted in the household. It is beyond me. I feel as Miss Chigwidgeon must often feel, that I have come to some strange land where the customs of the natives make no sense what-so-ever.

I must put this aside for now as we, the entire family, Miss Chigwidgeon, and I are off to church. We pack this afternoon and catch the Monday morning train for home.

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