October

I have begun this letter four times. The fire is poor and my excuses are worse, so I will simply say it: the post brought your name today, on a card from your sister, and I find I have read it more times than the message warranted. You are, I am told, a serious man. I am a governess of twenty-six with ink on three fingers and opinions on rather more than is thought becoming. I do not know why your sister thought we should write. I find, having begun, that I do not much care to know.