Dearest Diary,
Our first day of the winter lessons is at its end and we are nearing the second. Before I to bed for the evening, a thought had struck me of a word Miss Austen had spoken to me some time ago. According to the authoress, it is said that in nine cases out of ten, a woman ought to shew more affection than she feels. I find this to be a curious statistic, as I often feel I can do no more. Is it not enough that one might drop a kerchief or bat an eye, but must we also feign a case of the vapors as well? If a gentleman so much as asks to share a courtly dance, we are not to consider it of any significance to him. But we are imposed upon to make a display, so that it is not only apparent to the gentleman in question, but also in fact to every other creature in existence. Is this not unfair to our sense of being?
I suppose it is just the way of going about such a courtship. But it is of little comfort to me, I assure. Nevertheless, if such a gentleman should cross my path in the days to come, I shall extend a great deal more effort lest he pass by without understanding. Perhaps on the weekend? Or even tomorrow...
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