8 July

Ernest says I must not fear the attentions of mere *boys*. He says he will come for me soon without fail, and that I am to be a very *patient* little girl and think of him often. Oh, my prince! I know some day he will come for me. But will he ride a white horse or a black?

Tomorrow I simply will be obliged to tell Uncle Jack that I can marry no one but Ernest. In matters of matrimony, one must take a firm stand.

7 July

Absolutely captivating afternoon party at the Marquess'. I wore white tulle. Indeed, we all wore white, as it was a croquet party. Rupert and Ralph both present, as was the Marquess of Carabas, whom Alfie finds charming (!), and it was quite a fine day. Luckily, my dear guardian had thoroughly instructed me in how to play croquet very badly indeed, so I was the object if simply *all* the boys' attentions. Uncle Jack suggested I might allow Rupert and Ralph to call on me on occasion. Whatever shall I do? I am almost anxious.

Charming game of charades—Ralph and I won one round. If only he weren't so *clean*!

3 July

Horrid lessons of absolutely *all* kinds today. Miss Prism is *quite* a mood. Dr. Chasuble is quite overwhelmed with christening this week and so unable to take Miss Prism off my hands. Finally found time between tea and dinner to receive a letter from Ernest. He says he certainly *hopes* that I will refuse attentions from any boys besides him, as it is not proper to receive gifts from one to whom one is not engaged. I certainly will be obliged to firmly say, but sweetly, sorry.

2 July

I *must* dissuade my guardian from marrying me to Ralph! I am growing almost *desperate* merely thinking about it! I simply cannot bear to be married to a *nice* boy. It would give me absolutely nothing to *do*! I feel a young girl must have an occupation, and certainly one's husband is the only really suitable occupation. But when a boy is already perfect, he can *hardly* be made into any kind of project at all.

1 July

Today I asked Miss Prism if she thinks I am pretty. Miss Prism said all good looks are a snare. Indeed, she *always* says good looks are a snare. I suppose that is why she doesn't much like dear Dr. Barnaby. I wonder if Ernest is good looking. I'll bet he has dark, curly hair like Uncle Jack's and a simply *devastating* scar across his left cheek.

Miss Prism has informed me that Uncle Jack was most taken with Ralph and has said he (Ralph, not Uncle Jack) would be quite a suitable match. Oh Bother!

30 June

Evening party at the Arbuthnots'. Wilted spinach salad with bacon, grouse with sour plums, and a really lovely spotted dick. Tonight I was seated between Rupert (in whom I have lost all interest) and a new boy named Ralph. Ralph was entirely charming and quite witty. Ralph said I am extraordinarily pretty, especially when I laugh. Oh I *do* hope Ernest is *just like* Ralph, only not *quite* so *nice*. I don't quite *trust* boys who are nice—it seems so *devious* of them. Otherwise, Ralph would have been really perfect. But I don't like perfection—it bores me so much!

27 June

Miss Prism in a sweeter mood today at breakfast after I asked her how she was feeling on this fine morning. We even went for a short stroll together to wish a fine morning to Dr. Chasuble. I even sang a matin to him, and he was quite entirely amazed. Speechless, even. After we left him, Miss Prism noted that my spirits have been high of late and said she is quite pleased that I have given up my entire *obsessions* with Ernest and with Peter. She says she felt quite sure I would never have thrown my life away on a male beauty in distress.

25 June

Ernest wrote to me today simply to ask that I tell him *how* undressed the Marquess of Carabas *was* exactly. He was *most* concerned! This makes me wonder greatly about that old snake rumour. He says he merely desires information. *I* merely desire information.

Uncle Jack gone, so I cornered Maxine. She says it's all very natural and said didn't I ever notice the stallions and the bulls. Well of *course* I feel entirely silly now. I didn't think it polite to notice. I am *so relieved* to have the matter resolved *at last*. I suppose this proves once and for all that men are animals.

21 June

I think that I shall never see
A thing as lovely as a man
Especially one named Ernest.

18 June

Dear Ernest is very annoyed at all the evening parties I have gone to in his absence and has entirely *refused* to speak to me about his travels until I tell him absolutely *everything* that has happened. Of course, I have nothing at all to hide, so I will tell him nothing. I do like a bit of sulkiness in a man, but snits are another matter entirely.

Uncle Jack back this evening in a most agreeable mood! He promises to take me for a nice drive tomorrow unless the weather prevails.

17 June

My dear guardian has so many philanthropies that he has been in London for many days. He has, in addition to the N.A.A.C.P. and our new Farmers Food Insurance Fund, the S.O.B (Save the Buttons), the W.A.V.E (Widows Against Vegetarian Eating), the Liberal Unionists Against Reasonable Seizure, and the Wives of Foreign Wars. I always think it is good for a man to have an occupation but it is my opinion that my dear guardian is going entirely *too far*. My occupation until I marry my true love Ernest, is writing this little diary. It will be most charming reading for other young ladies and also quite entirely *instructional* for the lower orders.

15 June

My darling, darling wonderful perfect love Ernest has returned I know it because my dear guardian has gone to London for several days. Oh, I *do* hope Ernest and he will reconcile and return here together. I do *so* long to see my darling Ernest after all this time. I cannot see why dear Uncle Jack will not bring the dear boy down here some time. The country has a most wholesome effect upon a person. I believe the clean air and the beauty of the place have a specially bracing and inspirational effect upon those of the male sex. No doubt dear Ernest would be quite healed of his indiscretions were he here.

10 June

Today is was just Uncle Jack, Mr. and Mrs. Arbuthnot, Veruca, Rupert and I for dinner. Mr. Arbuthnot and Rupert away all day, so I was obliged to listen to Veruca accompany herself on the spinet to a most dreadful effect. Veruca is very fond of operettas. I *loathe* operettas. I feel they are always in poor taste. At dinner though, I was seated between Uncle Jack and Rupert! I told him I am 20. Sadly, he is only 19 and so too young for me. Luckily, I still have Ernest.

16 May

The ball went over quite swimmingly. The weather was charming and the band was really marvellous (sp?) so the dancing went on all night. Most everybody was very old indeed, but there were a few young persons there, including the Marquess himself, and we had our own table at dinner. I was allowed three glasses of wine, as more would be improper for an unmarried girl, but I am afraid the wine went entirely to my head. I had the most entirely gay time, but I am afraid I don't remember the name of a single boy I danced with!

10 May

Uncle Jack arrived back this morning with my new German text, and Miss Prism says we will be obliged to spend a *large* amount of time on German now since we have missed so many lessons. I hate German. It isn't at all a becoming language. In fact, I am quite sure that I look more than usually plan after my German lessons.

Sweet, appealing letter from Ernest, asking whether I will still think of him even after I have met all the charming boys at the ball. I have informed him that I will not even *look* at any boys at the ball, unless I am obliged to dance with them of course.

7 May

Miss Prism somewhat lax at lessons today and somewhat distracted. On the subject of Ernest, she says merely that it is not proper for a young lady to spend so very much of her time thinking about any man at all, much less a rogue and a bounder. I think a rogue must be a most excellent thing to be, but Miss Prism says a roue always comes to ruin.

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?

27 April

The tea was not a great success. Miss Lucy brown was a most horrid, spoiled little child! She wore a dress of the same fabric as mine (!), disdained my cucumber and cress sandwiches and refused *entirely* to discuss Ernest. She does not know Ernest. She is not even from London, and even if she had been from London, she does not like men. Indeed, she spent the entire tea clutching her "friend," a stuffed teddy named Aloysius, wh o*also* disdained my cucumber and cress sandwiches.

25 April

I went for my first walk outside today—went across the meadow (carefully avoided barn) and up to one of the smaller hills quite close, where I received an *enormous* bouquet of flowers from my darling Ernest! he is most *desperately* afraid of losing me! I am afraid our first breakup was quite a blow to him. I feel it is always best to let a man see what he could lose so that he will make sure not to take one for granted. Miss Prism calls it "the fear of God" and says it can be helpful in all *sorts* of situations.

25 March

I really don't think it can be right for a guardian to brood all the time. Guardians are supposed to be kindly people, I had always thought. At least only very bad little boys like E and so forth should be allowed to brood—it always makes a man *so very* attractive, and certainly one's guardian is never allowed to be attractive. Well, hardly ever. It seems to me to be quite improper. Oh why did Ernest leave me alone like the sad clown of life?