Dearest Diary,
There are a few who dared to hope, as I, that it was not some kind of April Foolery, but I am most certain that it was. There was, in fact, no letter at all from Mr. Derrick and I am forced at last to give him up. It might have provided the much needed amusement that this diary is wanting, but for now, I must continue my search.
There is a question of standards to be raised at certain moments in life and I have been urged by a few to not set so many. Perhaps it is the right of a schoolgirl to desire certain things in a husband, but at thirty years of age (or perhaps even older as the case may be), is it necessary to in fact grow lenient with one's expectations? I know that you cannot be certain of all the qualifications I seek, but I have come to the conclusion that age is no reason to make exceptions to rules which are solidly grounded in Biblical principles. There needn't be any reason to dispose of such mandates and least of all because I am older.
This does not mean however than I am as particular in the gentlemen to which I am introduced and as always, I welcome such introductions. I might even consent to observing tea with the gentleman. But when it comes to a question of marriage, I reserve the right to decline.
But such a question is reserved for a day to come. Perhaps not tomorrow...
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