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June 5th

I have taken out my journal today because something astonishing has happened. Desmond Featherstone has gone away. It is so strange. He did not say goodbye. He just went.

I had seen him only once since that night when I overheard the conversation between him and my stepmother and then he seemed somewhat subdued. I think he really must have taken heed of her warning.

I have been thinking lately that perhaps I have misjudged her. I have disliked her without reason. One should always have a reason for liking or disliking people. Now I come to look back, I ask myself did I dislike Lois Gilmour simply because she was not Miss Bray to whom I had grown accustomed? People do unreasoning, illogical things like that.

She has been very pleasant to me always. She has gone out of her way to be kind and she really does seem concerned about getting eligible young men to the house as possible husbands for me. My father is delighted with his marriage so I suppose he has good reasons for being so.

A few days ago he was not very well. I did not hear about it until the afternoon because I do not normally see a great deal of him. He does not always come to breakfast, but then we take it at odd times and always help ourselves from the chafing dishes on the sideboard, so that if anyone is absent it can easily pass unnoticed.

But at lunch time my stepmother told me that he was spending the day in bed. She had insisted that he stay there because he was a little unwell. It was nothing to worry about she said. We must remember that he was not as young as he sometimes believed himself to be and she had insisted on his staying in bed.

She nurses him most assiduously. When I went to see him in the afternoon he was sitting up in bed looking, I thought, rather pleased with himself because my stepmother was fussing over him, wondering whether he was in a draught from an open window and whether he should have his dressing gown round his shoulders.

"You spoil me, my dear," he said.

"Get along with you. You're unspoilable."

"But you do fuss, you know, Lois."

"I worry about you, of course."

I watched them. He seemed so happy—and so did she.

Yes, perhaps I have misjudged her.

I will try to like her. I have promised myself to do so. It has been rather silly to dislike her just because I was so upset at losing Miss Bray and then again because she has taken the place of my mother.

I must be sensible. And really she has made my father very happy and everyone says what a wonderful solution it is for him.

September 2nd

I feel so ashamed because I have neglected my journal for so long. I really forgot about it. Then a little while ago I was searching for a pair of grey gloves to go with my new gown. I knew I had a pair and could not find them. And there they were caught in the back of the drawer and when I was trying to get them out I found my journal. I felt so ashamed—after all my resolutions to write in it more or less regularly. But I think this is a fairly common way people have with journals. They have—as I had—such good resolutions—and then they forget.

This is a good time to start again. I have read through what I wrote before. How it brings it all back! And how young I seemed when I wrote some of it.

I have come to live fairly peacefully under my stepmother's rule. I have tried very hard to like her but I can't really although I often think it is unfair of me not to. She is so good and kind to my father. She has looked after him so well when he has his turns. He has had about three in all and she insists on nursing him and he says she makes much more of them than they really are.

I have heard the servants talking about men who marry women so much younger than themselves. They whisper together mysteriously. "It's too much for them. They can't keep it up."

My stepmother insisted on his seeing the doctor. Dr. Brownless could find nothing really wrong. He merely said he must take life more slowly. My father is following his advice and does not go every day into Great Stanton as he used to. My stepmother is not very interested in the Shop, as we call it. I believe it is a very profitable business and highly respected throughout the country. Quite a number of people in the business of cartography come to Great Stanton to see my father and his manager. They are often entertained at the house and as far as that is concerned my stepmother is proving an excellent hostess.

I heard my father say to her: "It was the luckiest day of my life when you came to teach Ann Alice."

And she replied fervently: "And of mine."

So it is a very contented household and I am sure my father is quite happy to stay at home more so that he can be with my stepmother; and in any case there is an efficient manager at the Shop to deal with everything there.

We went to Bath during the season. My stepmother thought the baths might be good for my father; and he said that to humour her, he would try them.

My stepmother hinted that among the company there might be a suitable husband for me. It seemed hardly likely that I should find

anyone among the gouty old gentlemen—mostly accompanied by their gossipy wives; and those exquisite young gentlemen, the beaux of Bath, could hardly be expected to notice me. More than once I had heard them declare in loud voices that they found the place devilish dull and that they felt inclined to desert the place and join H.R.H. without further delay. There were the fortune hunters, quizzing young women through their monocles, and doubtless comparing their charms with their alleged fortunes; there were simpering young girls and not-so-young ladies presumably looking for husbands.

I felt rather homesick for the fields and meadows and a life of freedom. I suffered emersion, which everyone seemed obliged to endure, and felt very ridiculous in my jacket and petticoat and most unattractive bonnet.

How long the days seemed! Drinking the water, taking the baths, going to the Abbey for the religious services, to concerts and the occasional ball at the Assembly Rooms.

My stepmother fitted perfectly into the life. Most people thought her charming. I noticed that quite a number of beaux ogled her, but although she was obviously aware of this and I thought I detected a secret satisfaction, she never strayed from my father's side.

She appeared to be interested in putting me forward, but I sometimes wondered whether she really was. That was how I constandy felt about her. I was never quite sure.

I did ride a little but always in the company of my father and stepmother and as she was not very keen on the exercise we did not do it often. But I could walk in the meadows and I did so every morning. There were people there so I was able to go alone and it was there that I encountered Desmond Featherstone. I was completely taken by surprise, not having seen him for so long.

He gave that exaggerated bow which always irritated me. "If it is not Miss Ann Alice herself! Well, who would have thought of meeting you here... and what a joy... alone! I am surprised that it is allowed."

"It is early morning, and I am older now, you know."

"And as beautiful as ever."

"Are you staying in Bath, Mr. Featherstone?"

"How formal! I had hoped I would be Desmond to you. Yes, a brief visit. And what do you think of Bath?"

"Very beautiful. I like the rocky wooded hills and the architecture is most elegant."

"And you like to mingle with the beau monde?"

"Not particularly."

"I wish I could see you alone. There is so much I want to say to you."

"I see nothing to prevent your saying it now."

"There is so much to prevent me. You for one thing."

"I have asked you to speak."

"If only you would like me a little!"

"Why should my likes or dislikes interfere with your powers of speech?"

"It is such fun to be with you."