Dear Philippa,

I do rather like the notion of heading off on fantastic adventures. Perhaps I ought to commence gathering gear and checking passage to the Wilds of North America!

In the mean time, I must tell you of the Ramstickles. You see, Mr Ramstickle is a rather dominating sort of character; jovial at first glance, but not so pleasant under the surface. I gather that he likes keeping his sister under thumb. His lady is also one to be avoided. She has a sort of preachy air about her. Leah actually heard Mrs Ramstickle tearing a strip off Joan – that is Miss Ramstickle’s Christian name. Oh dear, I know it is nearly impossible to believe, but I almost feel sorry for the woman. She is clearly unhappy to be in the same house with her brother and his wife, who in return think the Stick is sludge dredged up from the Clyde.

The fact that Mrs Ramstickle feels Joan’s instruction inferior is everyday clear. Oh my, what an awkward turn of phrase, I fear that my mind and my pen are not keeping pace and I am trying ever so hard not to make a complete botch of this letter. I have already scratched up four pieces of paper addressing a letter home and another two trying to start this missive. You see, there was some terrible noise coming from below. I thought at first that one of the Matherson’s had dropped a table or such; my first leaf of paper as I jumped nearly out of my chair. I had thought I was quite alone this afternoon, which incidentally I had off; my room is looking much better for the time too! Anyway, as I started over there came another series of sounds, too much like a row of impressive proportions. I accidentally knocked over a bottle of ink on my way to investigate. Indeed, you may be correct in assessing that I am not suited to delicate apparatuses.

I was attempting to be very stealthy coming down the stair, but to no avail. I tripped just as I reached the landing, stubbing a toe and causing my own thunderous sounds. The noise caught the attention of those in the room. A short and very disagreeable man, with a thick common accent and greasy moustache pocked his head out the door and promptly shouted at me for causing such a racket. Of all the nerve, when clearly he was being much louder than me.

All the training I have had in manners and respect was forgotten. I scowled at the man, desperately trying to think of some cutting comment. All the time I could feel my face flushing red, not with embarrassment, but with anger. Not of course that anyone would know. After cursing me roundly for interrupting, loud man then had the audacity to accuse me of being a little sneak! I was quite enraged by this point. It is one thing to imply that my timing was poor, but to outright accuse a lady of sneaking like a common criminal! Well!

My words were neither brilliant nor well polished, but I did manage to express my displeasure at his choice of words, the tone in which they were spoken and the volume of voice he had used. Which I further pointed out, was the reason for my descending the stair. At this point I demanded to know what was happening, on threat of going to the landlady.

“None of your business Miss! Naught but a wee talk with my daughter,” he replied curtly and turned back into the room.

Of course there was nothing else to be done. He kept the volume down and I returned to my rooms puzzled. For I was quite certain that Frank had mentioned his parents were deceased. But I suppose I could have been wrong. Perhaps it was Mr McDonald or Mr Fergus. I shall try to subtly ask Julianna later. I wonder how one goes about subtly asking very personal and pertinent questions?

Oh yes, I had quite forgotten. With Trongate Place full of its owners and their regular servants, we girls have found ourselves with a couple of afternoons off a week. This will not last long for we are shortly to be placed with families for ‘practical training’. They call it thus so we need not earn a wage! I am not certain how well I will cope with my weans to be. I have not taken to Mrs Ramstickle’s own three monstrous children. Time will tell, I suppose.

Yours ever affectionately,

Cousin Elizabette