My Own Philippa

I feel I ought to serve you the same turn and make you wait an age for a letter, but instead I shall feel morally superior and reply promptly!

Though, I do fear this will turn out to be the most disorganized missive to date. You see, I had started to write you on three separate occasions, but instead have managed to loose all three sheets of paper. My room is a very sad state at present, worse then ever before.

Miss Ramstickle has been driving us poor girls rather hard of late. You see, the house that she occupies is really her bothers. He is some sort of wealthy merchant, tobacco I suspect. In short he is due home soon and so all must be made ready. Of course, with the exacting standards of Miss Ramstickle, nothing is perfect and must be done over and over again. It is most fatiguing.

Though, I must say that Little Lucy is quite the worst off. She is a simple, stupid girl that actually wants to please The Stick! The little goose works ever so hard, running nearly mad with worry that nothing will be ready. This is utter nonsense, as the place looks remarkably well.

The one fortunate circumstance is the short reprieve we are to enjoy from The Stick’s incessant demands. As her bother is expected tomorrow, we are to have the next two days off! If I wasn’t quite so tired, I would be over come with enthusiasm. For now I am simply looking forward to some rest.

I must say, I am quite envious after your adventures at University. Oh, why I couldn’t I be there enjoying a lovely romp! However, as to your particular situation, what can I possibly advise? It is not an area I am particularly well versed in. Though, the thought of it has cheered me immensely, I laugh just thinking of being is such a situation myself as it would be truly absurd. Still, I suppose one must try to be firm and full of resolve with Andrew. You could try completely repulsing him if you wish to cut his acquaintance completely.

Oh, dear this letter is certainly lacking! I shall try to improve tomorrow, when perhaps something has occurred.

The days certainly seem shorter here than they are at home at this time of year. Despite this deficiency of daylight hours, I was able to enjoy a rare dry and sunny day. I spent my time in town with Molly McGregor, another girl under Miss Ramstickle’s guidance.

Molly is from Glasgow and has a Glaswegian accent, even when she is speaking in her best polished tones. She has even managed to teach me a few new words as we enjoyed tea in the Willow Tea Rooms. My vocabulary now includes ‘weans’ for those whose charge I will soon have and ‘Lairds’ instead of Lords. There were others, but I can no longer remember.

We had a charming time abusing The Stick and making elaborate plans for running away. One plan had us moving to Edinburgh and becoming famous on the stage. Though, as neither of us is accomplished in music or drama, besides being a complete scandal, that plan had to be discarded. Similarly any prospect of contracting a quick and eligible match was forgotten as neither of us is the position to meet such a person. Also, my idea of an eligible parti is slightly different than Molly’s.

My evening has also been quite relaxing, though I am sure that putting my room to rights would have been the better employment of my energies, I simply could not be bothered. In stead, it is still a shambles with not but a wee path from my door to my desk to my rumpled bed. Tomorrow, perhaps I will be productive. Until that point,

I send you my very best.

Yours in recovering spirits (yeah for days off!)

Bitsy

My Dear Elizabette,

I am sorry that this missive has taken so long to write; a great deal has happened since I last wrote and I do not think that I can recount it all. However, I shall do my best. I dare say you have been dying to know, and yes, I did climb into All Souls and see the Boy Bishop elected. But first more conventional adventures – I have been to London!

It was not more exciting than usual. Papa called me down for Great Aunt Honora’s 90th birthday on the grounds that any old woman, no matter how crotchety, who reached her ninetieth year deserved to have anyone she wished attend to her. Mama kindly requested I appear as Great Aunt is so fond of me. Aunt wrote to inform me that I was to come at once and not to skip out since Honora asked for me particularly, and Aubrey wrote to inform me that under no circumstances was I to leave him to face ‘that irritable old rattlepate’ on his own. I should quite like to see Aubrey deal with Great Aunt’s spasms and fidgets but I fear it would be cruel for both of them. In any case, with my dear parents and fond brother so earnestly (and forcefully) requesting my presence, I posted down to Ashworth House on Monday. Though why I should like to spend several days being informed that I am the very image of Great Aunt Honora in her youth by everyone (except Great Aunt who is a sensible woman) several times over I cannot think. Obviously my dear family could not think either and resorted to imperatives.

In the event it was not as tedious as I had anticipated. On Monday evening G.A. Nora had a small party at Ashworth of perhaps 85 persons. Nora told me she had invited 90 to mark her year, but that several Un-named Reprobates had not after all come, putting out her numbers. Other than this rather minor set back, the evening was quite pleasant. There was dancing in the ballroom, cards in the library, and a v. fine spread in the dining room. The syllabubs were my favourite. I was invited to stand up with several personable young men, but none of note. They were all of them v. poor dancers and my poor toes were trod on so often I was forced to claim fatigue later in the evening to save them further trampling. My slippers are quite ruined and I shall have to get new ones. The Misses Finch, Miss Heythrope, and Miss Darmoth were all in attendance and wished to be remembered to you. Edwd Bridges was there also and begs me add his entreaties to my own in wishing your speedy return to us.

Tuesday was a rather lazy day. I did not rise until close on ten and then spent and extremely relaxing afternoon in the library finishing some work Dr. Montrose set me a fortnight ago. In the evening Aubrey, Mr. Frank Worthing, the elder Miss Finch and I made up a party and went to the opera. It was quite nice, though I felt Russian an unlovely language for singing in and would have preferred French. Wednesday I convinced Aubrey to take me to the British Library and so spent a lovely afternoon wandering about. Aubrey was quite interested in the Egyptian Rooms though he tried hard not to show it. It is fortunate that I like Great Aunt Honora since Mother and Papa travelled back to Lynd early Wednesday morning with Aubrey and left me with her. We spent some convivial hours stitching and talking on various topics. G.A. Nora is v. much more interesting and intelligent than others (Aubrey) allow for. I returned to Lennox on Thursday afternoon.

On Tuesday morning Ellen did indeed show me how to climb into All Souls and I was able to watch them elect the Boy Bishop. They boys seem to me to have a great deal more fun at All Souls than we have at Lennox. I suspect they are given a great deal more license not being such delicate creatures as we Lennox girls. Delicate Ellen and Delicate Me managed to get over the gate and onto the Refectory roof in All Souls and so had a perfect hiding place, and view for the election. It was a messy affair involving soap, porridge, water and rather lewd Latin versifying. The rules of what seemed like an grotesque parody of an oration contest were extremely unclear to me, and I suspect to many of the participants, though this in no way diminished their enthusiasm for the game. In the end, a boisterous fellow called James was elected. He is extremely gallant when he wants to be, extremely rude without thinking, extremely irritating generally, but on the whole rather fun, and I expect the month to be more full of mayhem than usual with James at the helm.

Well, since Sarah married Mr. Willm Paxton this summer she hasn’t changed much. She has grown, if possibly slightly more smug (and stouter), and informs me regularly (when I am at Lynd) that married life is Perfect Bliss and it is a Shame that I shall never know it. Which I think is cheek. But there, she was never a nice girl, and was always rather stupid.

Andrew Rathern is becoming particular in his attentions somewhat to my dismay. Advise me, Miss Langdon: what shall I do? I have become friends with Mariah, and through her, have recently made the acquaintance of a charming young man, Nicholas Hales, and I do like him. He is most entertaining.

I have received a letter from Margaret Childe! She writes that she is doing v. well and enjoys Japan immensely. She is currently travelling about and promises to bring me a pretty pair of chopsticks from each city she stops in. Lord and Lady Childe enjoy excellent health and do not think to return soon. Mags suspects they will be recalled at the end of the year however. Do you think it would be exciting to have diplomat parents? I am torn between thinking it lovely, and exhausting. Today, being rather tired I think it exhausting. Mags thrives though and will have marvellous tales to tell when she reaches G.A. Honora’s age!

I hope to hear from you soon, and will not accept my own tardiness as excuse for yours!

With best love, &c., I am affectionately yours,
Phillipa