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*!

6 July

Uncle Jack to be back early evening. Still, obliged to study German all day. Too hot today. Weather entirely *stifling*! Merriman nowhere to be found when we wanted refills of our lemonades. I was obliged to send Maxine after him and hold my own parasol. Bother! Then received an entirely *cranky* note from Ernest, asking me *why* I have not responded to his request to refuse the attentions of the other boys. I have another party tomorrow, so I believe I will allow my petulant boy to suffer for a day before I answer him.

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!

26 June

I am preparing to sing at the Arbuthnots' in a few days' time. Miss Prism feels that I should practice more at reading the notes and learning the words. On this point I really must disagree. Absolutely *anyone* may learn *notes*. *I* sing with great expression and style. As a result, Miss Prism and I have entered into quite a row—she refused to allow me a third piece of cake at tea. Really, I can't see what good *starving* me does! Miss Prism is *quite unreasonable*.

Dear Ernest writes to say that he simply cannot wait to hear me sing.

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.

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 June

Whole day with my dear guardian. We took Maxine along to hold my parasol, and we took the dogcart that has no top. Entirely charming day. We drove out of Hertfordshire entirely and called upon Uncle Jack's acquaintance, Mr. Fawlty of Tunbridge Wells. Dear Mr. Fawlty is a most charming and *eccentric* fellow. He has a *moose*head on his wall. It is imported all the way from Canada, in America, and he disapproves of Germans very much. I approve of Mr. Fawlty very much.

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.

9 June

Evening party at the Arbuthnots! Tomato-basil soup, goose with wild berries, tomato aspic, beans with bacon and a green tomato tarte. The Arbuthnots' cook seems to have made tomatoes her *theme*, and I don't like that. One's cook should never think anything while cooking—it looks so *forward*. I was seated next to Nigel, a horrid boy with hair pas his ear (!) and Roger, an odd American (!) with forearms like a farmer. Really, it was too much! I was entirely prevented from speaking with Rupert and was obliged to gaze at him from afar. Nigel and Roger wanted to help me cut my meat. I told them I was 20 and they let me alone. They admitted to 21, but I am sure they were not a day past 20.

8 June

Lovely day, and I distracted Miss Prism from these entirely *incessant* lessons by taking her from a walk through the garden and as far as the schools. On the way back, we ventured into the rectory for a short prayer (that Ernest shall return safe and soon) and a chat with *dear* Dr. Chasuble, who kept Miss Prism after. Rest of day alone. Uncle Jack spending an *excessive* amount of time in his library. He is becoming entirely *hermitish*! But tomorrow we will get him out at last. Tomorrow Uncle Jack and I travel to the Arbuthnots' for the week-end. *Two* evening parties! I hope Rupert will be there.

3 June

Ernest wants me to run away and join him in London as soon as he returns. He can not bear to be without me for another day. I have written him that he must be patient, as I have several evening parties I must attend first.

Rose petal sandwiches for tea. I adore rose petal sandwiches.

2 June

Today, Miss Prism and I took a day trip to Queensberry, wher ewe had tea with Old Lady Arbuthnot and her dauther Veruca. I am afraid I did not care for Veruca so much after all—I thought her a bit too *forward*, but I did find her brother Rupert *quite* amenable indeed. He rushed in from fox hunting halfway through tea, *quite* flushed and with his hair all a-muss. I felt my heart go pit-a-pat. And I will see him again, for I am invited to an evening party at their home next week. I think I would like to hunt for foxes! I love fox-fur stoles!

30 May

I don't much like Uncle Jack being here so very often. He was ever so much more cheerful when he was running off to save Ernest from his scrapes. And I do miss Ernest so very much. These days are entirely *interminable*. That means they have no end. I am building my vocabulary so that I can appear in Society or abroad with Ernest after we are married.

23 May

Invited to an evening party at Miss Lucy Brown's. Miss Prism, with the assistance of my dear guardian, absolutely forced me to go. They said it is a good *social opportunity* (!) and that my grandfather (RIP) would wish it. Under great protest I went, but arrived late. But then the *entire* party was left waiting by Miss Brown. I *loathe* waiting. Even for 5 minutes. I was entirely *surrounded* by *infants*! I told them all that I am 20, and they subsided. When Miss Brown arrived, she wanted to play party games. I felt ill and left *immediately*. Miss Prism says she doubts very much that I will be asked again.

21 May

Evening party at the estate of the Marquess. I wore my aqua taffeta gown. Charming party! Roast beef with bacon and peas and also mashed potatoes. Carrot soup for starters. I didn't quite approve of the meal at first—I thought it almost vegetarian! I don't approve of vegetarians. But I did enjoy myself even though there was no dancing. Before we broke up into boys and girls, one boy asked me my name and age. I admitted to 20, but I didn't talk to him anymore because he had straight hair. I can't abide straight hair.

Marquess Alfie says I simply *must* meet his little neighbor Veruca.

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!

15 May

Tonight our household presents the Annual Charity Ball for the NAACP (the National Association for the Advancement of Charitable Persons), hosted by dear Uncle Jack and presided over by the Honourable Lord Alfred Douglas, Marquess of Queensberry. We will have roast squab and asparagus with new potatoes, preceded by a lobster bisque and followed by a hazelnut torte. I wonder if cook will put bacon on the asparagus like last time. She wrapped it round and secured it with a toothpick. I do so love bacon. I feel everything is better with bacon on it. After dinner, an auction and dancing, on the veranda if the weather is right. Full moon tonight.

14 May

Tomorrow the ball! The entire village is employed in cutting up confetti. I do love little country events. We have little pavilions set up all about the grounds, and there are streamers everywhere. Our estate looks quite the fairgrounds! Each of the pavilions has a most charming amusement or tasty delicacy in it. Charity balls have turned outto be very gay after all! If only my darling Ernest were here too. Oh dear, I am so very excited. However shall I sleep tonight?