It is the sorrowful state of procrastinators to end up in the position they most sincerely wished to avoid.

Time has spun forward, and I find myself, on this late spring day pondering my current state. 

A governess works with a small family of children, guiding their early years and shaping their young lives. In contrast, a schoolmarm is responsible for a larger collection of minds, but a more narrow range of study. It is in the latter group that I find myself at present; another spinster turned teacher.

I toil beneath the watchful eye of a stern headmistress, educating a clutch of disinterested and frivolous young ladies more focussed on petty fripperies than the lessons I present them.  It can be most disheartening to know all your work is for naught. Perhaps I dwell too greatly on the little incidents that seem to occur so frequently. I know I should remember the precious moments when the mind suddenly opens, seeing the world as something new and marvelous. I should remember the hands pressed into mine by young women prepared to face the world and grateful for the few things I have added to their understanding. 

Only today I look at the world around me and wonder if there is not something better out there. What happened to adventures and mysterious escapades? When did I become so old? 

I fear this missive is turning into a page of grumbles and groans. I think I will pause here. Hopefully tomorrow I will have recovered my equanimity enough to share my gardening projects and the latest snippets of gossip that you might find of interest. 

With that in mind, I shall leave this poor excuse of a letter unaddressed and unfinished…

To My Dearest Miss Fox

I am indeed amongst my relatives at present, but I am still not home. Currently I am residing in Edinburgh with Aunt Florence. I was both amazed and delighted to discover that my Aunt lives in the most fashionable section of New Town. Charlotte Square is certainly at the centre of Edinburgh Society!

Number 12, is elegantly though simply decorated. I was most surprised by my Aunt’s tastes; I would not have imagined that she could have such a lovely home. I have been installed in my own room on the second floor. After residing in such a small attic room for the past months, this spare room seems palatial indeed! And there are servants here to take care of everything! Oh, how delighted I am to be back with civilized society!

My Aunt of course has her rooms on the ground floor. Though all the rooms are generously proportioned for a town dwelling, I was surprised at the lack of a proper book room. There is only the beautiful carved oak case in the parlour and it does not have the greatest selection of literature. I shall endeavour to find the local lending library shortly.

Life is considerably different here, with dinner parties and dances to look forward too and no early hours the following morning. Aunt Florence has promised to invite some people my own age to her next dinner. Thus far I have only met other rather aged persons, all of whom are as respectable as they are wrinkled.

Sir Hailes was the most interesting of last night’s group. He is a prominent lawyer who continues to wear heavily powdered wigs. He says the government may be ‘damned to hell’ for all he cares about them and their foolish taxes. ‘I have worn powder all my life, it would be indecent to be without it! I will not be made a spectacle of over some taxes imposed by this young generation of fools!’

I have not received word from Pippa in sometime now. I thought she was consumed by her studies and thus tardy in her correspondence. It is nothing new. Have you heard something else? I shall write home directly and see what has happened with her.

The one downside of this delightful arrangement is that I am at the beck and call of my Aunt, who is currently calling to me. I suppose I must off to discover what it is she needs.

I hope that you are doing well.

Yours affectionately in distant correspondence,

Bette

To my dear Bette, with warmest greetings:

Ah, but consider the fact that a man will behave in a noodleheaded fashion at any and every opportunity which is afforded to him, and you will see that it was very wrong of you not to think that Edgar would do so. I will concede that one could reasonably expect Mr. Strongwin not to do anything foolish. However, this is principally because for most of his social intercourse I believe that he is not in fact fully awake, so I do believe that the point stands. I find that I am somewhat regretful for the lack of further communication with Edgar, due to Mr. Strongwin being away in the country and thus unable to provide the two of us with opportunities to meet. He may be entirely cobble-brained, but his conversation is stimulating for all that, and I have laughed with somewhat more moderation since our separation. I find I cannot recommend moderation in laughing.

I find it quite appalling that the weather has been so very autumnal here today. Given that the climate is as a general rule almost entirely lacking in sunshine for so much of the year, I could wish that in June, at least, one would be permitted to venture out of doors for a walk without becoming draggled up to the chin. I am glad to hear that you have been able to indulge your peculiar taste for adventures in clement weather, though.

What a very odd coincidence that you have been hearing untuneful singing. I too have overheard some unfortunate vocal outbursts coming from the gentleman who lives next door to me which, upon reflection, I concluded were intended to be of a musical nature. Part of the confusion stemmed from the fact that at other times I do believe that he was rather attempting to garner the attention of a certain young lady walking down the street, and it is not always an easy thing to distinguish the one from the other.

I am grateful to you, Bette, for illuminating me on the fascinating subject of being a corpse. It has been most novel. I pray you, though, not to delight me so again, for I find that I have had enough of it for the nonce.

Are you back with your family? Do convey to them my regards. Do also, if you would, tell me any news you have of Philippa; I am most concerned about her.

I leave you with a kiss and my sincere affection,

annika fox

My Dearest Annika

What a strange town Glasgow is. The locals, for some inexplicable reason have taken to shouting and singing in a most off key fashion! It is a horrendous fouling of the air. Though I suppose it is unfair of me to complain of the quality of music, considering my own abilities. However, it would not be nearly so bad if either they sang loudly and beautifully or softly and inexperienced.

The weather of late has been grey and wet. The type of wet that coats the world in water, like clouds hanging too low. It is very drab. It also makes the streets a positive nightmare to navigate.

Happily today was a rare sunny day, dry too! I was most delighted that this fine weather coincided with my day off. How perfectly splendid! To make this day even better, I was able to go out on an adventure.

It is near the end of term here for most of the University students. In all the confusion of comings and goings I was able to sit in on an anatomy lecture! It was most thrilling to walk the halls of the University, to peer covertly into offices and lecture theatres and to explore the main anatomy lab. Dead bodies are rather fascinating to look at. And just think, someday you too will be a corpse.

James McDonald presented me as either an aspiring undergraduate to the world of education or his sister. By this means I was effectively smuggled into the sacred Halls of Science. The lecture was about the functioning of the heart, but alas, there was no galvanisation of the corpse. Just a regular dissecting of the body, which was all new and exciting for me. James and his friends thought my eagerness a trifle amusing and spent the afternoon teasing me for it. After the lecture we had a grand time wandering about the campus grounds.

Sean Fraser was particularly entertaining. He is from the west coast of Scotland and has such amusing phrases. Not that I will venture to share many of them with my mother! She would not be impressed. But he had me in stitches for much of the time. It was lovely to spend a day surrounded by people my own age and standing!

Have you had any further contact with Edgar? I do hope you have managed to avoid another such incident! Though, I don’t suppose anyone would have suspected Mr Strongwin’s brother-in-law to be such a noodle.

I am sincerely looking forward to this summer season. Even to returning home to my family, though I am not sure I will like living at home nearly so much as the freedom of being on ones own. There is a certain liberty to the current set up – not much, but enough to make this past year tolerable.

I fear I must send this off now. I have an early start on the morrow.

With deepest affection;

Elizabette

Dearest Pippa

The governing of young children is not to my tastes! I have come to the inevitable conclusion that I do not like the early hours, the unsociable nature of the servants, the horrid behaviour of the weans or the constant dissatisfaction of a mistress.

There I feel much better!

I have had such a busy month doing nothing but work! The weather has been getting progressively worse, which I maintain is partly to blame for the terrible behaviour I am forced to deal with every day. To begin with the weather after Easter was lovely and warm. Thus the children were filled with lively spirits and the great desire to be outdoors playing. A trial for ones patience when it comes to trying to teach them their lessons. But the subsequent rains have been far worse, for now the weather is too horrible to go out and everyone is feeling very restless.

Hope seems so far removed from my present state I am beginning to doubt its existence. Your letter, however, has been a great salve to my spirits. And indeed I do try to remember that I have only a month or so before I go to my Aunt in Edinburgh. I really am trying to hold on dearly to that thought of freedom in the meantime.

Alas, I fear that this also means I have little of interest to convey to you my dear cousin. I have not even had the opportunity to sneak illicitly into the University. In fact, beyond falling exhausted into my bed every evening I have indeed done little and see no one.

I shall apologise now for my poor correspondence and hope for your forgiveness. I will sincerely endeavour to do better next time.

Yours in exhausted affection;

Bits

Dear Philippa,

I have enclosed a letter from our Francesca with this missive, which I trust you will be pleased to peruse, not only for the interest which any communication from her must arouse, but also because I fear she has become much plagued by Auntishness, a condition which your commonsense doctoring will surely help to correct.

Though for my own part, I dare say that being a Vicar's Wife would be quite a suitable position for which to apply. What a pity it is that one cannot do so, as a talented young man wishing to become an attorney might. I cannot say that I feel any great amount of devotion to the works of the Lord, but perhaps a rather old and stupid Vicar wouldn't notice. Nor, I suppose, would a young and frivolous one who is only a Vicar because his father insisted and who might appreciate a lively wife who knew 5 or 6 synonyms for "complexion", even if she were of very little earthly good in all other respects. Now that I think on it, I do believe I might be of assistance in the writing of sermons.

It has been a rather dreary Sunday, and I must say that I shall be glad to see the morrow, despite the fact that it means I must perfect a description of Bramble Water and its marvels that shall satisfy the publisher of The Lady's Garden of Youth & Apothecary. Perhaps I shall suggest that evidence from Anglo-Saxon wills would indicate that Anglo-Saxon ladies have enjoyed its Rejuvenating Effects since Time Immorial. My publisher will no doubt be displeased with this, as he has informed me in highly pompous tones that Ladies must not be confused with scientific reasons (Science, in this case, being any reason that he hasn't thought of himself). He would certainly be surprised to find that I am a female, though clearly, in my understanding, however rudimentary, of Science, I am no Lady. I do find that I enjoy styling my handwriting after my late uncle, who was of a manly and extremely uncongenial disposition, in my correspondance with Mr. Minsterprude.

I trust that your studies continue well, and that I shall see you before many more weeks have passed. I must go, but if you wish you may ask Elizabette about the little episode which occurred between me and Mr. Strongwin's brother-in-law, for it is a rather droll tale and I told her about it in my last letter.

Yours,
Annika Fox

Dear Franca,

How pleased I am to hear that you are well. I was most gratified to receive a communication from our Miss Fox on Thursday last, and she had the foresight to include the letter that you sent to her, knowing as she did how I longed to hear of how you are faring.

I am very sorry to hear that you have been given books of sermons to read! How dull and good they must make one. I beseech you not to become too pious and to strenuously resist the efforts of your kind uncle in making of you a Vicar’s Wife. While I am sure this is a valuable and happy occupation (and I hold Mrs Campbell, your Aunt, in great affection) I do not think it at all the thing for you! Unless, perhaps your Vicar was of unusually lively spirits? and then there are all the advantages of being established in a home of ones own. So perhaps afterall, it would not be too dreadful. Only I still cannot wish it for you!

I beg you not to refine too much on the impoliteness of Mrs. Holywell’s behaviour. She is an ill-bred woman and not quite the thing I fancy. However, I believe that she means well, and is very generous with her time in the parish. It must be in regard to this devotion to the church that Mrs. Campbell would consider her influence beneficial, as I cannot conceive that she would wish you to take example from her behaviour otherwise. Mrs Campbell is herself a far better pattern to mold oneself on.

Do not fret Franca! Consider always that you cannot paint worse than Elizabette dances!

Mrs. Burrows is quite right and well do you know it. It would be a shocking affair for you to come out of blacks before the mid June. Once everyone has gone into the country for the summer it will be an easier matter to put them off and rejoin society. Such a relief it will be to you not to be confined to the very elevating company provided by Mr. and Mrs. Campbell.

I have nought of interest to relate to you of my own life. I spend, as ever, most of my hours in my study at Lennox. With increasing regularity I break in the afternoon to take tea with Thom Seyton at Beaufort College, occasionally with Mariah or Caroline Price, and this is the bright spot in the day. Which isn’t to suggest that I do not like work, for I enjoy it vastly, only one cannot spend all ones time reading Anglo-Saxon wills.

I would you convey my greetings to the Vicar and Mrs. Campbell. Please also look for a package to follow this missive. I shall endeavour to send you some more entertaining reading than Fordyces’ sermons.

Yours always and with great affection,
Philippa