Dearest Diary,
I am deeply saddened to report that my health refuses to be amiable this evening. Apart from this small detail, I have had a bit of adventure today. What began with a single arrival by post from Lord Barrymore, continued with a second letter of a more forward nature. The gentleman has extended an official invitation, and at first receipt, I believed I would accept. Now I am thinking quite to the contrary.
I know that many will disparage me for asking too much, but I cannot seem to find the joy in the arrangement. I did however agree to have not made up my mind before spending some time in a gentleman's company. It is almost certain that to make such a promise, one will inevitably be given the opportunity to see it through, in the most unseemly opportunities. I am not certain I'm up to the task. You, dear Diary, have assured me "Tis only tea," but even tea, in this gentleman's company I fear would feel like a fortnight. I cannot believe that such an appointment would not result in my doing more harm to Lord Barrymore, than if I were to decline. I sense already that I am most determined to refuse him.
Now that he has been most assuredly cast aside, I shall try again to recommence my evening recreation with Lady Pigeon, about the grounds of the estate. In this manner, I shall be prepared should another gentleman recommend himself. It is much too late of hour to begin tonight, however. Perhaps, tomorrow...
No comments:
Post a Comment