24 June

Ernest's stalk turned toward mine and I dreampt of him. Midsummer's Day evening party at Marquess Alfie's. Turtle soup with bacon, trout almondine and a lemon tart. Very tasteful as always. And the Marquess is always impeccibly (sp?) dressed. I do hope Ernest dresses *just like* the Marquess. Lovely evening. The sole dark spot was the Marquess of Carabas, who arrived almost *entirely un*dressed (!) and created quite a scene. I doubt very much that he will be asked *anywhere* again. Arriving undressed, even at a masquerade, is simply *not* the thing.

23 June

Midsummer's Eve. The servants held the bonfire but I was obliged to observe from my window as Uncle Jack kept me in at door all night. Bother! Double bother! But I did put out a Midsummer Man each for myself and Ernest, as well as a bit of coal under my pillow. I *do* hope I shall dream of him! But now I can not sleep for fear of *not* dreaming of him! Whatever shall I do if I dream of someone else? And how will I know if I *do* dream of him—how will I know, since I do not as yet know what he looks like?! I do hope he does not look like everyone else!

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.

17 May

I entirely forgot to say that the Marquess has invited me to a dinner party at his estate in Queensberry. He says I will meet many gay young people there. I certainly hope so! Otherwise, it will be dreary. Perhaps I will arrange a tryst with Ernest there. Also, I won a little carved wooden box in the charity raffle. It really is a darling little thing! I will use it to hold all of Ernest's dear letters. I already have them tied up in a sweet little ribbon from the May Day coronet. Oh, how I love my little box!

4 May

A sweet, pining letter from Ernest, begging me to forgive him for his jealousies and grieving that he was unable to see me in my outfit. I am having my coronet dried and will save it to show him when we meet.

Lessons *beastly* today—went on for *hours*. Miss Prism quite intent on me entirely understanding the Pound/Mark exchange rate, and I money holds no interest for me. Indeed, I think it quite vulgar to have any understanding of money at all.

3 May

I was quite a success at the May festivities—our little country newspaper chronicled the events this morning. they say I "was effervescent in (my) May gown and garland of pink roses, as refreshing as a cool glass of champagne and sparkling with youth and charm." Oh, it is lovely to be adored! Mr. Adrian Mole, the write and publisher, has adored me for as long as I can remember. Indeed, he may have adored me forever. I sent a copy to my dear Ernest. He will certainly be obliged to speak to me now.

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.

1 May

May Day at last! We arrived quite early in the village and stayed long after dark, until the official festivities were over. Naturally, I was required to open and close the ceremony, as well as lead the maypole dance. I have always like the maypole dance very much, but this year it seemed so childish. I had rather planned to steal a kiss from dear Dr. Barnaby, but I saw him there with his young wife and baby. The whole day went quite dark for me then. I cannot speak any more about it.

30 April

How shall I ever escape Miss Prism? She is positively *bombarding* me with Geology. Horrid, horrid Geology! It is enough to drive one perfectly frantic! I was obliged to ask her *why* I must be forced to learn all these horrid lessons. I *really* can't *see how* I will *ever* use Political Economy in the future if Ernest is not a mad bomber. But Miss Prism assures me that German and Geology and things like that influence a man very much.

Uncle Jack back. My May Queen dress arrived with him. I will look stunning. It is all pink with ribbons and bows. I wonder if my dear doctor will notice.

Ernest not speaking to me. Will G and G influence Dr. Barnaby very much?

22 April

Ernest is *very* jealous of my relationship with the doctor. The poor boy is frightened he will lose me. He is entirely *bombarding* me with loving words. He has even attempted a charmingly simple little love posy. What a dear, romantic boy he is! I am quite quite sure he will bring me lots and lots of flowers as soon as I am able to get outside.

I have special ordered my May Queen dress—from London (!) and Uncle Jack will pick it up. If only Ernest could see me in it. He would be my slave for evermore.

16 April

Miss Prism and I took lessons and a picnic out to the top of one of the hills quite close. Weather splendid until we got to the very top of the hill. Then the rains came. Books all wet. I won't be able to study German for weeks until the new book arrives.

Uncle Jack has said I am to be May Queen this year. Whatever shall I wear?

11 April

Easter.
"Manna in the Wilderness."
*Again.*

10 April

Mudie quizzed me on her birthday 3-volume novel this morning. At the last, I was obliged to own I had not finished it as yet. Told her I was reading as slowly as possible since I simply cannot *bear* for it to end. Dr. Chasuble says a lie that hurts no one is not *really* a lie in God's eyes.
Short note from Ernest wishing me a very lovely Easter and a most joyous end to Lent. Horrid Lent! Why do we have to celebrate (?) Lent? It seems very unfair!

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.

17 March

Long walk today. Weather entirely charming today and the servants of the Catholic persuasion all quite drunk with Spring today, only of course it is not *quite* Spring yet. The Catholics always seem to get things a little funny.

Charming letter from my Ernest. He says he certainly will not allow Uncle Jack to stand in the way and he promises to take me to a masquerade when I am old enough. He is very fond of masquerades.

The Year of Our Lord, 1895—Happy New Year!

1 January, 1895
Happy New Year! At last I begin my new lovely little diary! Uncle Jack allowed me to stay up until midnight at last although he had said I would not be allowed until I was fully 18. But I shall be 18 in 3 months and 18 days, and I told him I *so* wanted to give him his present at midnight. My dear guardian doesn't have a proper birthday, as he was *found*(!), so we celebrate it every new year on the first day. I gave him a little silver cigarette case. I had it engraved "From little Cecily with her fondest love to her dear Uncle Jack." He was very amazed and appreciative. Must see Peter.