9 July

I have had the most unimaginable *shock* this evening! Uncle Jack has announced that cousin Ernest is going to be emigrating immediately. I can not imagine what desperate trouble he can have gotten himself into that would require such entirely *dire* measures, but I feel I certainly must prepare myself to live as a widow, for I fear I never shall see my darling Ernest more. He has not written to inform me of his position or of any plans to spirit me away with him, and so I am quite entirely *bereft*.

29 June

Singing lessons have been suspecned for the time being. Miss Prism feels it is better that way, as it will allow me to debut at the beginning of next year's season with a full repertoire. Naturally, I am disappointed, but Ernest writes to say that he is very excited bu the news, as it will allow him to find a way to be present for my debut. Oh, my darling boy! How proud he will be of me. I am sure he will race across the room with flowers for me and cry "Brava!" (that's Italian) with all his darling heart.

22 June

Tomorrow is Midsummer's Eve. I do hope I shall be able to attend the bonfire at night. Miss Prism does not approve of bonfires.

Lessons on all fronts today and my great disappointment is the Miss Prism feels I am not quite ready to sing in public as of yet. I had *so* hoped to sing for the Marquess' evening party! But I concealed my annoyance masterfully. That is good practice for evening parties.

Ernest writes to me that he will dream of me on Midsummer's Eve.

19 May

A *most* maudlin day at the Manor House. I am in mourning over Ernest's departure, and Uncle Jack seems quite uneasy as well, though I am sure I do not know why. He has retired to his library for the day and seems to be quite in distress. Whatever can be the matter? I suppose he must be quite worried about Ernest's safety during his travels.

2 May

Everyone entirely useless today. The entire village and everyone on the estates stayed up reveling far too late in the evening. It seems to me that *this* is the day that should be the holiday. Our breakfast was lumpy, our midday was nothing but cold cuts, our tea was dull, and our supper involved rutabagas. I detest rutabagas! Uncle Jack spent the entire day in his library, Miss Prism forgot about lessons entirely (she had a headache) and Dr. Chasuble was quite cranky, which is not at all like him. I was left to mourn my great disappointment on my own.

24 March

Nasty rain all day. Uncle Jack in a terrible mood. Why is it that when I am feeling rather gloomy, I am made to go to my room, while Uncle Jack is allowed to run amok about the whole house? No one seems to care at all that my heart is broken over losing my poor, dear Ernest. When will I be allowed to mourn my great loss? I cannot properly grieve with all the *to do* in the place. It really is quite inconsiderate of Uncle Jack not to think of me at this time. He is not to be appeased. What an ogre he has become of late.

19 March

My 18th birthday, and not yet married. This is a source of great sadness for me. I shall be obliged to speak to Ernest about setting a date *right away*. I must admit I had hoped he would have done so *for* my birthday, but the dear boy is so forgetful! He bought me the most beautiful little bangle with a true lover's knot. I have promised him always to wear it. I also received several new dresses, a small and very lady-like string of pearls, a little prayer book from Dr. Chasuble, A Young Lady's Book of Manners (1895 supplement) from Miss Prism and a *3-volume novel* from Mudie. Charming weather.

2 January

My first kiss of the New Year wasn't from Peter after all. It was from Uncle Jack! I think that is really rather hard. I am certainly not going to be in love with Uncle Jack! Does this mean the end of my love affair with Peter Flint? He is such a cypher always. I searched for him all day yesterday and only found him just at dusk, when he was carrying out his evening duties, but just then I heard the bell for dinner and was obliged to leave! Today, the weather was ghastly, and I was not let out. I miss him to *death*!