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