oursin: a hedgehog lying in the middle of cacti (hedgehog and cactus)
[personal profile] oursin

Wot a saga, eh, wot a saga, first time I have ventured significantly forth these many years -

And to start with, MAJOR HEAT EVENT.

In anticipation, I had - or so I thought - prudently booked a taxi via taxiapp, with a certain amount of leeway, just in case -

- which turned out very prudent, as when I went to check the booking this morning the app was showing 'network error' and this was clearly on their end rather than mine, and a little looking about suggests that this is not their first rodeo server problem.

So when, at designated time, taxi cameth not, I set out towards the Tube, not without some hope that a black cab might pass me on my way, but that Was Not To Be -

And on reflection, I should perhaps have waited for a Bank train, because getting out on Charing X platforms at Euston involves rather too many stairs.

However, Avanti kindly texted me the approx time my train would be boarding, and this all seemed set - although my (1st class) seat was aisle, backwards, there was nobody in the other 3 seats so I switched -

HAH.

When we reached Coventry, choochoo sighed and gave up, and we had to debouch and take the next Birmingham bound train - which was delayed....

At Birmingham New Street had considerable faff trying to discover a Way Out that would take me to a taxi rank.

When I finally arrived at hotel booked by conference organisers there was an immense performance trying to find the right group booking, as it was not under any title that I might have thought of but that of some hireling booking agency.

However, I am now in nice cool room and have had tasty room service snack. Even if I have had to wrestle with getting my laptop to talk to the free wifi...

Connexions (16)

Jul. 1st, 2025 08:35 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan

What they had not at all anticipated

Flora and Hannah were quite in agreement that Mr Thornton seemed an entirely eligible prospect as tutor – had not shown at all discomposed by their medley of orphans, was a promising sign, had shown very proper respect to darling Verrie –

Really, said Flora, that is a very good set of young men, who would have anticipated the like around Saythingport’s son?

Hannah gave a little wistful sigh. Perchance 'tis the like case to Milord – for thus, among themselves, they spoke of Gervase Reveley, the late Lord Raxdell, Beatrice’s father – that Lord Peregrine observes his father and wishes to take an opposite course?

You may be right, my love! What a pity that he is not the heir, rather than that inebriate lout.

That might come with irksome responsibilities, not that they seem to bother young Talshaw –

Flora groaned. Would that dear Beauf was not so conscientious filial in the matter, one sees that he finds it exceeding tiresome and yearns for Nitherholme. Sure one is glad that Bobbie Wallace now follows in his father’s footsteps and is no longer a trifling idler, but one could have wished he had remained His Grace’s secretary.

Hannah smirked and remarked that even so, she fancied that Beauf and Flora had found some compensations in his presence in Town.

Flora blushed, reaching to take Hannah’s hand. You do not mind, dearest?

Oh, poo! Here we are nearly at Attervale – she glanced out of the train window – and I hope you will not mind do I manifest a certain affection towards Lady Emily.

For somewhat to her amazement, what had begun as rather in the way of a passing flirtation, had become an enduring devotion that ran happily alongside their other loves. Indeed, Hannah was like to suppose, was best thus: could not quite imagine living with Em, that rose extreme early of the morn to tend to hawks and horses – was mostly preoccupied about those and the estate business of Attervale – entirely accepted within local county society –

Whereas Hannah was a creature of Town to her very bones.

So here they were at last at Attervale – so that Flora could convoke with Lalage Fenster over village education, and Hannah, besides having the opportunity to see Em, intended to go visit Sir Hobday Perram in her capacity at Bibliophilia, to write up his collections for The Speculum.

What they had not at all anticipated was that Bella would also be a guest at Attervale. Hannah bit her lip – doubtless the girl would be hanging out after Em in positive heroine-worship, exceeding ennuyant.

Though seemed curiously subdued: one heard she had been smitten with a chill after that matter of being bolted with by a skittish mare during a visit to Hackwold, but seemed in perfect health now – no worrying matter of coughing or sniffling –

But although she rode out on their morning ride – for Em was quite able to mount her guests – and tended to The Gascon on their return as had been well-trained in doing by Belinda Penkarding – instead of hanging about the stables and the mews all day, after breakfast – and one observed she made a hearty breakfast! – went recline upon a sopha with a deal of reading matter.  Most odd.

After Em had showed off her hawks, along with the owl and the raven, all in excellent good health, to Hannah, they went take coffee in Em’s room that was part office and part sitting-room and part study. For Em, that would claim that she had been brought up an entire ignorant miss – Milly was a darling, but we were sad inattentive pupils – came about to be considered quite the authority upon horseflesh and its ailments and quite the savant concerning hawks, and had a deal of correspondence upon those matters.

So, said Hannah, putting her feet up upon a convenient footstool, what is ado with Bella? Surely no young woman that eats as much as she does can be in a decline.

Law, said Em, looking up from sorting the post that had just arrived, for they were old enough friends not to stand upon ceremony, 'tis give out that she was badly shook up by that business at Hackwold. Sure Leah and Inez go make a deal of a sensational melodrama out of it, alleging that there was some plot afoot to make Thessaly, that was well-known a skittish creature, bolt, so that Blatchett could effect a daring rescue – as if Bella was not entire capable of rescuing herself, indeed she kept her head, found herself in familiar country and ended up at Jupp’s farm, where The Lady and Gertie Jupp were in residence.

Hannah put down her cup a little too hard and coffee splashed into the saucer. Blatchett, you say?

Had been showing marked interest in Bella. But although she came off unharmed from this adventure, Quintus Ferraby apprehends that there was some shock to the nervous system and that she would be better for recruiting a little out of the whirl of the Season.

Hannah said Good Lord, that was not what one anticipated at a Hackwold party –

Em responded that she heard that Sir Antony and Lady Mary had been called away – some matter of a sick relative – leaving the party with an aged spinster aunt and that awful creature Mr Mortimer Chellow to host.

O, one might expect some tragedy like unto The Mistletoe Bough in that case, or perchance some scandal involving cards, mayhap billiards!

O, quite. The old hen collapsed in spasms and went demanding a physician: those naughty nieces of mine will enact her. Em sighed. Really, that pair. First they go acquire most respectable, though one must admit, exceeding dull, suitors – entirely enviable partis I daresay – well, I should not care to have that tittering imbecile Lady Gabrielle as a sister-in-law, but who knows but that she may marry herself? – and appear to go sober down remarkably. Positively unnatural – and then Lord Gilbert comes back trailing a romantic history of duels and love-affairs with opera-singers in Vienna and Buda-Pesth &C&C and they both go yearning after a younger son that is, one hears, entirely dedicated to his career in the Diplomatic and has no intention of marrying. O, one dares say that did he have a wish to wed, there is some Mulcaster estate or other he might look after – mayhap go into politics – but would be very tame for one that has, one hears, ridden with Cossacks, gone wolf-hunting and a deal of other adventures.

Hannah responded that Lord Gilbert certainly had a touch of the brooding Byronic strain about him but one did not hear that he emulated the late poet in other particulars.

Why, she wondered, had she – and Flora – not known about this incident at Hackwold? She could not suppose that Clorinda, Flora’s beloved Tiger, had not known the all almost before it happened. There had been time and occasion for her to communicate the matter to Flora.

One had to ponder whether there was more behind than the tale put about by the young ladies: and knowing what she and Flora did of Blatchett, she wondered whether the plot had had more to it than performing a mere daring rescue.

She had no immediate opportunity to convoke with Flora – went to pay what she anticipated would be a first call, leaving her card, at Perram Place, but was received with great enthusiasm by Sir Hobday, that declared having heard so much about Miss Roberts from Her Grace and Mr Davison would not stand upon ceremony and convention –

'Twas all entire fascinating, and would, she fancied, work up into a deal of possibilities beyond a staid account of his library and collections for The Speculum – one might pass on a few hints to Sybil Vernall as seeds for tales!

But the upshot was that by the time she returned to Attervale Flora was already about dressing for dinner, that they took at country hours.

La, my love, I may bustle into a very suitable gown! Do not fret.

Flora sat at the dressing-table, brushing her unruly curls into some degree of order. She looked over her shoulder with a grin, saying, she did not really suppose that Sir Hobday had kidnapped Hannah to be an odalisque in his hareem!

And how did you pass the day?

Flora made a moue. O, Lady Isabella takes a sudden whim to be interested in politics, and has been interrogating me about various matters in Aspasia’s columns – sure there are a deal of allusions that one needs to be informed to make sense of.

Really? Hannah shook out the skirts of her gown, and looked in the pier-glass, wondering mayhap her corals, since they would be in company? To relieve the severity? She did not say aught about the Hackwold business or Blatchett?

Flora twisted right round. What?

Hannah disclosed what she had learnt from Em.

Flora growled. Hah. I am very like to suppose there was a good deal more behind – but I had heard nothing. Tiger has been entirely mute upon the subject except to mention that Bella had been rather knocked-up by her wild gallop in a chilly sleety night.

Oh! She stood up, clenching her fists. She has no confidence in my discretion – I know I was a foolish careless creature who did not reckon with the consequences of speaking out about free love and preventive checks and how that would affect my ability to work for other causes –

She sighed. Hannah went over to put an arm around her. It was a grief to Flora that her work for village education and certain other causes had to be conducted by informal convocation by way of conversation with friends, as there were those would not wish to be associated with that scandalous Miss Ferraby.

Did she suppose I would immediately be about publishing denunciations of Blatchett? And mayhap being sued for libel? No, these days I am good sensible prudent Flora, even would I desire to eat his heart in the marketplace and would at the very least consult Mr Geoffrey Merrett upon the state of the law in the question.

And Beauf has kept this secret too! she cried.

The important thing, Hannah pointed out, has been to protect Bella’s reputation – have you not spoke of the wicked fragility of female reputation?

Flora gave a little sob. ‘Tis so, and one sees the reason, but meanwhile that monster roams free.

Free, but these days somewhat shunned of the herd, one hears.

They looked at one another. Flora gave a gulp, and straightened up, and managed a little grin. Is’t not possible that Tiger herself has some device in play? Sure I should not wish to blunder in.


Rebuilding journal search again

Jun. 30th, 2025 03:18 pm
alierak: (Default)
[personal profile] alierak posting in [site community profile] dw_maintenance
We're having to rebuild the search server again (previously, previously). It will take a few days to reindex all the content.

Meanwhile search services should be running, but probably returning no results or incomplete results for most queries.
oursin: Grumpy looking hedgehog (Grumpy hedgehog)
[personal profile] oursin

How is it the end of June already? Where did it go?

And tomorrow I have to travel to Birmingham for a conference.

I am telling myself that I survived the Hot Summer of 76 in an un-airconditioned office where, if one opened a window in came the noise and fumes of a heavily traffic-polluted thoroughfare.

Of course, I was Much Younger in those days.

I see that it is supposed to get somewhat cooler (and wetter) on Weds.

rydra_wong: Lee Miller photo showing two women wearing metal fire masks in England during WWII. (Default)
[personal profile] rydra_wong
* SAVE OFTEN, especially in the early game when you may be very fragile and the game's auto-save is infrequent.

BUT -- don't reload from a save unless you actually die or otherwise hit a "game over."

This game is about failing, and it rewards you for playing forwards through failure. Some of the best moments in the game come from failed checks. There are always alternative routes and ways forwards. If you tried to savescum it, you would miss most of the game and all of the point. Embrace failure.

Okay there are those two specific checks where failing is so emotionally devastating I would not judge anyone for savescumming. But apart from those.

* You can just pick one of the Archetypes for a starter build, and leave messing around with custom character creation until you've seen the stats in action and understand how the system works. Don't stress about it. Or, if you want, you can throw yourself into custom character creation despite not having a clue how it works, and you will also have a fun time. Your initial build and your later choices about what you put points into will radically change your experience of the game, but you can't do it "wrong"; there are no optimal builds which are "better".

* Press tab to highlight objects you can interact with, or activate "detective mode" in the settings to do it automatically. Yes I know this is the sort of thing that is probably obvious to people who have played video games before.

* If your Health or Morale (displayed on the lower left of the screen) fall to zero, you have about 5 seconds to apply a healing item (if you have one) by clicking the cross above that stat.

This is the one timed element in the game, and also the one mechanic that some of us initially have trouble grasping.

With all the other mechanics in the game, you can not only learn them by flinging yourself in and floundering about, this is IMHO the best and most enjoyable way to learn them. No idea what the Thought Cabinet is or what Internalizing A Thought means? Try it and find out!

* Perhaps the most important tip of all:

If you feel you are flailing around and failing on most of the checks you try and you've just been informed you have acquired a Thought you can internalize in your Thought Cabinet and you have no clue what that means or maybe you just had a heart attack and died before you even got out of your hotel room or you had a nervous breakdown because a child insulted you and you have no idea what you're doing and it's been three days and you still haven't got the body down from the tree --

THIS DOES NOT MEAN YOU ARE PLAYING THE GAME "BADLY". THIS IS IN FACT THE UNIVERSAL DISCO ELYSIUM EXPERIENCE AND MEANS YOU ARE PLAYING THE GAME CORRECTLY. WELL DONE.

Connexions (15)

Jun. 30th, 2025 08:37 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan

Are we not quite chameleons

Matters were somewhat quiet at present in Raxdell House – for the very best of reasons, thought Bert Edwards, that was, officially, Lady Raxdell’s social secretary and found himself undertaking a deal of other duties within that household. Both the daughters married off – Miss Harriett that was now Mrs Brumpage Parry-Lloyd, a flourishing mother already and another in prospect – Miss Emma at Naples with her husband that was a descendant of Neapolitan aristocracy – all very gratifying – and now here was Mr Peter had made quite the most appropriate match. Daughter of Lord Vinwich, that had been part of that fine set about the late Lord Raxdell, nothing could have been more suitable.

The happy couple now made a bridal tour upon the Continent, that most fortunately kept 'em out of the way whilst the east wing of Raxdell House was furbished up suitable for their separate establishment. And here was Bert found himself more or less in the capacity of master of works for that!

Sure that wing was in reasonable good order, but had been somewhat neglected over the years since the Ferrabys had departed. And was entirely proper to be about some matters of decoration for a new bride!

Had walked through the various chambers with Miss Frances – FanFan – that waxed somewhat wistful over the fine New Year parties the hospitable Ferrabys had been wont to hold for the children of their extensive set and, indeed, their own grandchildren.

O! – but why are there bars to the windows here?

Bert fancied that Miss Osberton had some notion of a quite Gothic tale – mayhap of the days of the Vicious Viscount, the late Lord Raxdell’s abominable father –

This was, I apprehend, the nursery. When the Ferrabys first came to Town, Quintus and Miss Flora were still quite infants, but very venturesome creatures, the tales give out, and there was a deal of worry that they would climb up to the windows and mayhap fall out.

What a very sensible thought – so like Lady Ferraby – we must – she blushed a little – keep this chamber to be our nursery.

And there was convoking with Waxman the butler and Mrs Waxman the housekeeper about servants, and with Seraphine Roberts over the kitchens. Seraphine sighed, saying that had Miriam not showed so impatient and gone take that place with the Grigsons, would entire have advanced her interest, but as 'twas, considered that Eugenie was ready to have her own kitchen under hand.

He was at present wondering about what one might do about a personal maid for Mrs Peter.

But he supposed that Jerome, Lord Raxdell’s valet, was undertaking the question of a valet for Mr Peter.

As was his wont every fortnight or so, Jerome had invited him to take a glass or so in his sitting-room and talk household matters and the news of the day, 'twas exactly the occasion to open it.

Handsome Jerome – well on in middle years now, but still a fine-looking fellow with that tawny complexion and curls that only showed a hint of grey – nodded, and said, had been bringing on that lad Antony – you will recall him, was one of the footmen we had from the Potter-Welch agency, one of the orphans that they train up for good service – showed a very pleasing ambition to advance to valet so I have been instructing him in good practices – will be entire ready to take up the position when Mrs and Mrs Peter return –

We were fortunate to engage the services of that fellow Mompson! Not only does he come highly commended as a courier – by Lord Gilbert Beaufoyle no less – but was quite willing to undertake a valet’s duties, having previously been in such a place.

Bert nodded. He had seen the testimonials to Mompson’s abilities, and one felt a deal more comfortable about Mr and Mrs Peter knowing they were in those hands.

But talking of valets, Bert said, I daresay you will not have come across anything of the like – 'tis certainly not good practices! – but I have heard lately that there is some fellow goes about offering reward to valets, and mayhap ladies’ maids, for any compromising letters or such they may get their hands on –

Jerome looked very severe. Sure one hears of chaps that are turned off, or have other reasons for resentment, will possess themselves of letters that might lead to a crim.con. or the like – 'tis low vulgar behaviour but one understands there may have been provocation – but that sounds above and beyond the right way of going on.

Or, perchance, Bert went on, to be entirely fair, may have had some threat to bring against 'em, themselves, to do the deed.

Jerome nodded. After a pause he said, have not heard aught of the matter, but will keep my ears open for hints. I daresay this is some investigation your young lady has been commissioned to?

Bert allowed that the business had been mentioned to him by Miss Hacker. She was not what Jerome supposed by his young lady but they were excellent good friends and it did no harm at all to be seen about with her at the theatre, the Buffle Arms song and supper room, or Cremorne Gardens.

Jerome sighed and said, should not let the grass grow beneath his feet when it was a case of a fine young woman. There had been that magnificent creature Livvy Bracewell, a friend of Sophy Lacey’s as then was, visiting Town with the Fairleighs – lord, a splendid healthy country girl that showed up your drab Town women – admirable character –

But I failed to speak afore they all went back to Herefordshire.

Bert wondered. There was Jerome – still caused a certain amount of sighing amongst the maidservants – such a handsome fellow – such elegant manners – it must be a useful tale to put about that there was a lost love that still commanded his heart.

Because matters at Raxdell House were so quiet there was no difficulty about Bert slipping out discreetly the next evening to go visit Prancey’s, not in his character as the Duchess of Clerkenwell Green but in his usual garb, to take a glass or so with Prancey and discuss arrangements for the next revel of the sisterhood there.

Prancey was entire delighted at the prospect – caused no trouble – paid very generous – the fiddlers had remarked that they were ever being offered additional fees to play particular airs –

Bert nodded, and said that the fiddlers were indeed considerable praised. Also the wine

Sure Mr Barron’s friends at Brighton trade in some very nice stuff! And lately I have had an offer from Vohle, that makes daguerrotypes –

Bert frowned a little, for his recollection of Vohle’s daguerrotypes was that they were of naughty scenes, that he purveyed at Black Tom’s to the young men that came into Seven Dials to see life. Though he also, now Bert thought upon it, provided as 'twere trade cards for Covent Garden Misses displaying their assets.

– took the thought that mayhap your sisterhood might care for mementoes of themselves in their splendour –

That was a very appealing thought! The Duchess of Clerkenwell Green, very stylish in her finery –

Why, I should say that was an excellent thought, but that there is a thing at present gives me pause, that indeed I intended opening to you.

Prancey sat up and looked attentive. Vice Society?

No, not that, 'tis another troubling matter. He described the business as Leda Hacker said Matt Johnson had fathomed it out – some fellow that was going about bribing, or using threats, to get his hands on letters, or mayhap other items, as such depictions would be, that might not be exactly criminal, but would be matters that their rightful owner would pay highly to ensure were not disclosed.

Financial transactions he would not wish his employer, or mayhap his father-in-law, to know of – letters from some lady, that would have an adverse effect on his suit to the heiress he is courting, or perchance bring him into court for a crim.con. proceeding – one surmizes that a chap would not wish his wife to see him prinked up in a finer gown than any she owns – Oh, one perceives a deal of possibilities. Prancey sighed. And sure, who is easier to threaten than a fellow that has reason to fear being took up for unnatural offences?

They both groaned.

Prancey filled both their glasses again, saying, would very discreet see what he might find out. A deal of the fellows that came here were in places where they might have the chance to lay their hands on those sorts of things.

Indeed, thought Bert, was the Reveleys given to indiscretions, that was hard to even imagine, he would be exceeding well-placed to discover 'em! But la, he was the fellow had secrets to conceal, in that household.

So, would not yet be about any matter of a daguerreotype of the Duchess, but opened these findings to Leda Hacker, as they went take a genteel stroll in the Park of Sunday.

Hah! said Leda, sure I shall be about going get my image took by Vohle –

What, as Babsie?

Leda gave a snorting giggle and remarked that from what she understood, Vohle would expect a deal of bubbie on display – no, he already knew her, very like, as Larry Hooper, from Black Tom’s, so she would present in that guise – could contrive some story –

Will give me opportunity to look about his studio – see are there signs of some hidden safe or such –

She tucked her arm into Bert’s and grinned at him. And then might make another visit more covert with my lock-picks.

Today, a-walking in the Park, sure she looked entire a proper young women in some genteel occupation – nothing like the old Bet Bloggs! – and indeed, nothing could be genteeler than, o, she undertakes a little secretarial work for Lady Bexbury, that has so much on hand with her charities.

She dug him in the ribs. Fie, are we both of us not quite chameleons? Then looked up and said, why, there is Frinton with her Ma and young Walter, let us go make civil.

That was entirely agreeable to Bert, that knew from Leda that Miss Frinton was an entire connoisseur of stationery, that he had a considerable nice taste for himself, and was about advizing some business about it.

Culinary

Jun. 29th, 2025 06:58 pm
oursin: Frontispiece from C17th household manual (Accomplisht Lady)
[personal profile] oursin

Last week's bread held out pretty well.

Friday night supper: ven pongal (South Indian khichchari).

Saturday breakfast rolls: the ones loosely based on James Beard's mother's raisin bread, 50:50% strong white/einkorn flour, perhaps a little lacking in the mace department.

Today's lunch: (this ran into several difficulties including oven problems and a pyrex plate going smash on the floor, but got there in the end) salmon fillets baked in foil with butter, salt, pepper and dill, served with baby Jersey Royal Potatoes boiled and tossed in butter, garlic-roasted tenderstem broccoli, and white-braised green beans with sliced baby red pepper.

PSA

Jun. 29th, 2025 01:54 pm
rydra_wong: Lee Miller photo showing two women wearing metal fire masks in England during WWII. (Default)
[personal profile] rydra_wong
Disco Elysium is currently 90% off in the Steam summer sale, making it a mere £3.49.

Play Disco Elysium, everybody. Yes, even if you don't play video games.

(It was the first video game I ever played -- apart from having once(?) played Pac Man as a child, many many decades ago -- and it was a perfect choice.)

If you understand the principle of a Choose Your Own Adventure book, have a vague sense that "stats" and "levelling up" are things, and can grasp "click to go to a place/interact with an object," you are sufficiently equipped.

ETA: Okay, I will add in [personal profile] astrogirl's excellent content warning:

It's definitely not for everybody. I mean, for one thing, it gets pretty much all the trigger warnings for everything. Alcoholism and substance abuse, suicidal thoughts, discussions of sexual assault, gore (not visual, but some of the descriptions are very vivid), you name it. A number of characters are giant racists. (Towards fictional races/ethnicities, mind you, but it's still ugly.) Evil children will hurl homophobic slurs at you. That sort of thing. And whatever your politics, the game will try very hard to make you feel uncomfortable about them.

Connexions (14)

Jun. 29th, 2025 10:27 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan

Compromising correspondence

Matt looked across his desk to the fashionable young man opposite – Mr Phineas Taskerville, that had been a hanger-on of Blatchett’s set, but had lately been showing rather cool towards him. Matt sighed a little inwardly – wondered did priests sometimes feel thus in the confessional?

Here was a tale that he had been hearing rather oft of late – perchance not quite the same, but much the like in its essentials. Here was a young chap had been enjoying the favours of another man’s wife or mistress – lord, did no young men these days practise the discretion that had kept Geoffrey Merrett, that well-known consoler of neglected wives, out of the exposure of a crim.con. action? – and came to him about certain letters of a most indiscreet nature.

There was Mr Taskerville, had expectations from a wealthy and pious aunt, that were these disclosed to her would not only cut off her habitual generous gifts at appropriate seasons but doubtless leave her fortune in due course to some missionary enterprize. Alternatively, the scandalmongers had it that Sir Francis Whibsall and his lady were at outs and Sir Francis might well show generous for evidence towards bringing a crim. con.

Matt gave the young man a benevolent and reassuring smile, saying that they would look into the matter – might require additional information once they had, but Mr Taskerville might be confident the business was in good hands.

The latter rose, blushing and mumbling that he had heard a deal of good reports of the Johnson agency’s ability and discretion in dealing with similar problems.

As he left, Matt pulled over and opened the ledger so that he might record that the interview had took place on this day, and then took a sheet of paper to make the more confidential notes. This accomplished, he stepped out of the office to go into Ginevra Frinton’s filing room, where his prime operatives were wont to gather and gossip.

Excellent: there was Hacker, that was exactly the one that he would desire in a matter of this kind, and he requested that she might step into his office.

Once she was seated opposite him he opened the case to her.

Ah. Another one – do we apprehend that there is one particular chap that is making quite the business of it? Mayhap goes about bribing maids and valets – or finding somewhat to threaten 'em with – to get his hands on compromising correspondence.

I think you hit it off very just! This is no common instance of a discharged valet going be vengeful.

They looked at one another.

Hacker flexed her clever fingers. Might one find his hide-out – for I fancy is not the like to hire a bank-box to keep his trove in –

Can one find him first! – hah, suppose I put it to Taskerville that he arranges to meet the fellow, to say he does not have the sum immediate about him –

I doubt he does, he lately did very badly on the turf!

– and must thus go raise the ready, but has that in hand with his bank – and we have watchers about that might follow him when he leaves –

Dickie goes about to become very adept in that matter. And, she continued, a thought strikes me that I may have a way to come at this matter of suborning of valets.

It had been quite the happiest day when he had been persuaded to take on a former pupil of the noted ken-cracker Laffen! Here was Hacker had a deal of skills and quite the nicest insights – made very useful acquaintance –

Why, go to’t! Now, you might send in Frinton, is she not too occupied at the moment.

A few hours later, Matt was just stepping back from taking a glass of ale and a plate of bread and ham at the Lord Nelson, when Dickie quite burst out into the hallway saying, there was an Irishman had come very desirous of an interview with Mr Johnson about a matter of grave importance.

Matt, bestowing his stick in the stand and his hat upon the hook, said he dared say 'twas yet another fellow had had a female relative beguiled into matrimony by the scoundrel O’Neill!

But it turned out to be a different matter concerning the tangled affairs of Miles O’Neill and the womenfolk that became embroiled with him.

The fellow was clearly in some prosperous line of business – handed over his card – one Rory Sullivan of Cork –

They had been in brewing and distilling this age, and here was a bottle of their excellent whiskey as an earnest of their quality for Mr Johnson –

Why, that is a very thoughtful thing, and I daresay 'tis not too early in the day to invite you to join me in a small glass?

So he took the glasses from the cupboard – there was not infrequent occasion to provide a client with a drop or so of reviving brandy! – and poured out, and praised the liquor, and enquired about Mr Sullivan’s journey to Town, &C, and thus proceeded to his reasons for coming here.

Mr Sullivan was a cousin of Lady Wauderkell, that he understood had been quite cleared of any imputation of murder or assault – had supposed that she would at last have retired to her old home, but they had seen naught of her, and had no direction where they might write to discover what had become of her –

Had Mr Sullivan not heard of Lord Fendersham’s determined pursuit of the lady? Or perchance did not wish to apply to such a rigidly Evangelical peer.

Why, said Matt, I am given to understand that she goes undertake a retreat at a convent in Sussex.

Mr Sullivan praised the Blessed Virgin and crossed himself. That is quite the finest news! Would write to the good sisters – dared say there was a Mother Superior that he should address himself to –

Quite so, said Matt, I may find that out betimes.

Mr Sullivan became confidential. It was the matter of the lawsuit over the family business – when cousin Juliana had become so besotted with that wretch Wauderkell they were very loathe to let him get his fingers into her share – would be an entire leech – so they concocted legal proceedings that would cast doubt on whether she had entitlement to any portion – wagering on the likelihood that he was not a fellow that was going to linger about Cork or even stay in Ireland to pursue the case – and there was Jule already selling her little verses and tales, very remunerative –

But now we had rather bring the matter to a comfortable compromise and is she a widow we are a deal less troubled! – why, she might take the veil – would provide her a handsome dowry – or here is Connor O’Reilly, ever had a notion to her, has been a widower some three or more years – has waxed quite tearful over her straits –

Matt nodded and said, did Mr Sullivan indite his direction in Town on his card, would send there as soon as he had the intelligence.

Mr Sullivan departed with effusive gratitude.

Matt supposed that Lady W would be required to give testimony when this matter of O’Neill’s bigamy came to court – they were still awaiting the evidence from Chicago – but sure it would be a happy resolution did she disappear to her natal shores.

That e’en he went dine with Dumaine, that had become quite the regular custom with 'em, for a most useful exchange of intelligence and gossip. There was a deal of mutual benefit – Dumaine still found the services of Leda Hacker in her guise as Babsie Bolton of immeasurable value in the detection of false play at the tables, by the patrons of the establishment, and alas, occasionally by the house dealers. But had also been able to put business in the agency’s way, and to provide information of considerable use to its investigations.

So after they had dined, and were enjoying a glass of very fine brandy and cigars – have quite lately come upon a new supplier, does very well – Dumaine grinned and remarked that he was exceeding glad that Saythingport had decided to drag his heir about the races.

Matt lifted his eyebrows.

I was in some concern that I would have to drop some words that it might come about to having to bar him from my doors – there have been quarrels which did not quite turn into brawls, and I was not hopeful that peace would be preserved – but I fancy His Lordship observed the matter himself and decided to cool his head in fresher airs. So they are not lately about and thus neither is the Delgado bitch.

Dumaine stood, and said, would just take a peep out at the observation port to see that all was well down below – hoped would not have to attend personally until later –

He went to draw aside the panel that concealed a window onto the public premises of the club.

Good lord, there is Iffling, with Marabelle on his arm, brings his brother-in-law, that is a complete contrast to Talshaw, and his friends from Oxford, to see somewhat of high life, well, they will have somewhat to boast of in their college!

Matt went over to peer over Dumaine’s shoulder. And there is Blatchett –

Blatchett and Mortimer Chellow that clings to his side like a shadow! Well, I see no-one has actually gone give him the cut by getting up from the table he has sat down at, but they do not show welcoming. Though he was ever a poor hand at cards – at least one need not fear cogging, does not have the intellect for it –

What about Chellow, though? said Matt, knowing somewhat of the tales about the Hackwold Incident.

Dumaine snorted. O, he has brains enough, but he is fly enough not to try any sharp play here, where he knows there is scrutiny – would be another story at private parties, with the other players well in their cups.

Matt bent his own gaze more closely upon Chellow at the table: one must suppose that Blatchett found that he was being obliged to pay dearly for those secrets of his of which Chellow was apprized. Might Chellow be operating on a more wholesale basis? 

104°. (Ljidol wheel of chaos week 2)

Jun. 28th, 2025 02:14 pm
[personal profile] eeyore_grrl
 
                 104*

it's 104 degrees on my naked body
if it's any consolation
         they say
it's a dry heat
but 100 is a 100 is a 100
and heat is hot

a cool mist sprays fine water droplets
occasionally covering me

i read poolside
my kindle my friend 
                                         amongst strangers
my husband my love 
                                          amongst newness
how do you make friends at a nudist resort
and i wonder
         if i want to
we are here to be us
we are here to relax
we are not looking for the insundry
the un.... sanitary

not this time
not today

but it's a dry heat
                        (they say)
        and i wonder
         what fever dreams connect here
         i wonder
         if my skin reddens
         because it sees the sun
         or because eyes see me

if it's any consolation
         they say
it's a dry heat

        perhaps,
                              i won't get wet 
                                                             after all




.
rachelmanija: (Books: old)
[personal profile] rachelmanija
84 Charing Cross Road, by Helene Hanff




A sweet epistolatory memoir consisting of the letters written by a woman in New York City with extremely specific tastes (mostly classic nonfiction) and the English bookseller whose books she buys. Their correspondence continues over 20 years, from the 1940s to the 1960s. It's an enjoyable read but I think it became a ginormous bestseller largely because it hit some kind of cultural zeitgeist when it came out.


I Survived the Great Molasses Flood, by Lauren Tarshis




The graphic novel version! I read this after DNFing the supposedly definitive book on the event, Dark Flood, due to the author making all sorts of unsourced claims while bragging about all the research he did. The point at which I returned the book to Ingram with extreme prejudice was when he claimed that no one had ever written about the flood before him except for children's books where it was depicted as a delightful fairyland where children danced around snacking on candy. WHAT CHILDREN'S BOOKS ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

The heroine of I Survived the Great Molasses Flood is an immigrant from Italy whose family was decimated in a flood over there. A water flood. It's got a nice storyline about the immigrant experience. The molasses flood is not depicted as a delightful fairyland because I suspect no one has ever done that. It also provides the intriguing context that the molasses was not used for sweetening food, but was going to be converted into sugar alcohol to be used, among other things, for making bombs!

My favorite horrifying detail was that when the giant molasses vat started expanding, screws popped out so fast that they acted as shrapnel. I also enjoyed the SPLOOSH! SPLAT! GRRRRMMMMM! sound effects.


The 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle, by Stuart Turton




A very unusual murder mystery/historical/fantasy/??? about a guy who wakes up with amnesia in someone else's body. He quickly learns that he is being body-switched every time he falls asleep, into the bodies of assorted people present at a party where Evelyn Hardcastle was murdered. He needs to solve the mystery, or else.

This premise gets even more complicated from then on; it's not just a mystery who killed Evelyn Hardcastle, but why he's being bodyswapped, and who other mysterious people are. It's technically adept and entertaining. Everything does have an explanation, and a fairly interesting and weird one - which makes sense, as it's a weird book.

a brief surfacing

Jun. 28th, 2025 09:49 am
katarik: DC Comics: Major Slade Wilson and Captain Adeline Kane, text but I can make you better (Default)
[personal profile] katarik
Was at the queer youth group I volunteer at last night and the youth came in and were immediately like 'KPOP DEMON HUNTERS!!!' and, you know, the trailer looked cool, I've heard good things, and anyway the youth get to watch what they want to as long as they promise it's appropriately rated. So we put it on.

I have listened to the opening song six times in the subsequent twelve hours. I don't like all the songs in here, but "How It's Done" is absolutely an earworm, and it's an excellent example of how to effectively layer multiple voices. (Alcor Star Systems on Youtube has lyric videos which translate the Korean!)

I want the story where Rumi dodged the entire friend-breakup plotline by just TALKING to her friends like an ADULT, but I don't want to have to write it.

The worldbuilding is pretty shallow; it follows the tropes it's doing closely and there's no twist, which is both a feature and a bug; and the love interest is meh, but it's a very pretty movie with good female friendship and I am entirely here for the core concept of 'Jem and the Holograms but they're also Slayers'.
oursin: Photograph of small impressionistic metal figurine seated reading a book (Reader)
[personal profile] oursin

But this is just plain bizarre: reading the AI summaries rather than watching the series or presumably, reading books.

What is even gained thereby?

It's so massively Point Thahr Misst about why one consumes story-telling that I can't even.

Why not just go straight to: this work manifests [whichever of the whatever the allegedly number it is of standard plots it is] tout court?

I guess these are the people that live on Soylent and pride themselves on 'rawdogging' airflights?

Have they completely eliminated enjoyment and fun from their lives, and if so, WHY????

Conversely, and in the interests of pleasure, there has recently opened a bookshop entirely dedicated to romance, in Notting Hill. (I do cringe a bit at calling it 'Saucy Books'.)

Back in the day, in Charing Cross Road, there used to be a dedicated Romance section alongside Murder One and the SFF section in the basement, all in one bookshop, but that has long been one with the dodo.

(no subject)

Jun. 28th, 2025 12:51 pm
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] halojedha and [personal profile] rmc28!

Connexions (13)

Jun. 28th, 2025 10:06 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
Quite the happiest establishment

Really, for a house of mourning, they kept up their spirits something wonderful! Of course, for Myo and Jimsie – the Countess and Earl of Trembourne that they had so suddenly become – there was that delightful supposition that they were in expectation of increase. Myo – Hermione – had long imagined that her lameness would preclude marriage, let alone maternity, but indeed 'twas by no means the case. Here was Jimsie – Mountfort James Ludovic Upweston, that she had met when he was still Lord Ketterwell, the heir – had not been in the least been deterred from wooing her by her condition.

And there was Surgeon-Major Hicks, that had devized a system of exercizes – began to think upon these matters when I was in the Punjaub – fancied one might bring wounded men back to nigh about full capacity for service – learnt a deal from certain native practices – that came about to ameliorate matters. Along with occasional champooing by that fine woman Sister Wilson, that had learnt the art from the Dowager Duchess of Humpleforth’s ayah.

Dr Ferraby was greatly reassuring – did not in the least recommend that she should spend the next months lying upon a sopha, but walk in the gardens – and sure, a little gardening would do no harm at all, would be beneficial. Conceded that she might have some particular trouble when eventually brought to bed, but that these days, we had that fine new invention, chloroform.

It was also delightful that dearest Mama, on receipt of this happy news, had declared that of course, was this agreeable to Jimsie, she should move to Trembourne House rather than reside with the Grigsons. Indeed this was a time when one wished the presence of one’s mother – sure, there was Grissie Undersedge, mother of two adorable infants and the most sensible of women, quite in the capacity of an elder sister – entirely superior to Rina! – but even so.

So they were quite the happiest establishment. Oh, even in mourning there were certain duties of rank – especially for Jimsie, that had no desire to imitate his father’s very lackadaisical notion of his duties as a peer of realm, and intended to be conscientious about those. So was having certain quiet meetings with the set about the Duke of Mulcaster and Greg Undersedge’s father the Earl of Nuttenford, as well as reading the newspapers and the reports of the undertakings of Parliament a good deal more closely than he had been wont.

Besides, he – along with Grissie, that had effectively been managing the Trembourne estates for some years – were now able to look them over and think about how they might best be run without having the constant drain of the expense of pandering to the late Earl’s hypochondria. Traveling about spaws all over the continent – visiting quacks –

When Dowager Lady Trembourne retired to the continent following the funeral, it was not said in so many words but there was a belief that there was some highly-placed foreign lover – possibly also had a lucky hand at the tables – able to cover her dress-bills by being known to set the style – 'tis a known thing, Grissie had said – so she was not a burden.

Oh, Grissie would sigh a little over the books, and say that even would it not be somewhat unfamilial to turn Mr Grigson’s uncle and mother out of Carlefour Castle, that was let to them on very agreeable terms, was a still prudent thing.

But indeed, they were all a deal happier.

In particular, Nora – Lady Eleanor Upweston, Jimsie’s younger sister – was positively blithe. Revealed, following her father’s death, that he had been considerably inclined to approve the union being proposed to him by Myo’s father Lord Saythingport, between Nora and his own heir, Viscount Talshaw.

They had all been shocked. Myo had no opinion at all of her eldest brother, that as the heir had been indulged all his life. Lord Gilbert Beaufoyle’s reports of his conduct on the Grand Tour had not been prepossessing, and he had now obtained throughout Society the reputation of a boor and a drunkard. Marry Nora! Quiet, shy, very pious Nora! It was quite horrible.

It also argued how very desperate Lord Saythingport was growing: for Nora would bring no great portion to the match, and it was still being gossiped upon how he had sold Cretia to Cyril Grigson, of no rank at all but exceedingly wealthy from his family’s China trade. However, Cretia seemed very well suited with that match – Grigson a very amiable fellow –

But they could now offer the argument that Nora was in mourning for her father and it would be entire improper to entertain thoughts of marriage for some several months yet.  By which time Saythingport might have contrived to find some wealthy but more lowly born heiress prepared to trade her gold for the eventual rank of marchioness.

So Nora sometimes sang at her lace-making until she came to the realization of what she was about, and blushed at the impropriety.

This particular afternoon the weather was so very fine they had taken their work to the summerhouse in the garden – Nora with her lace-pillow, Grissie with her lap-desk and Edmund and Adelaide playing at her feet, while Myo was about embroidering bookmarks that she might present when solicited for the next raffle or charity bazaar.

For was a day when they were in some anticipation that Lady Pockinford and Thea might call, and 'twas very like that there would be some good cause or other that Dumpling Dora was about!

It was Thea alone that was ushered into the summerhouse.

Mama, she said, has had a message from Rachel Demington that there is some muddle to do with the preparations for the Seamstresses’ Summer Workshops, so rushed off quite willy-nilly to convoke with her on the matter.

She disposed herself in a comfortable lounging chair, and looked about at 'em, and smiled. La, 'tis wicked unfilial in me, but is Mama not here I may enquire whether you, Nora, go visit Aggie and Hughie and see aught of Sister Linnet?

Nora put by her lace-making, so that she might give a lively account of how matters went in the parish of St Wilfrid’s, and add that there was a deal of asking after Lady Theodora.

Thea sighed. Would that I might visit 'em, but I had ado enough over pursuing my singing lessons at Zipsie’s –

At this moment arrived, very welcome, lemonade, just what one would desire on such an afternoon, along with an array of dainty sandwiches and cakes.

After they had refreshed themselves with these, and were still idly nibbling, Grissie remarked that no-one could object to Thea’s joining a married woman friend in her own house for singing lessons.

Thea sighed again. Entirely not, one would suppose. And Mama has come round – but. She looked down into her empty glass.

She looked up again. I am in somewhat of a dilemma.

That was intriguing, thought Myo. Was there some matter of a friend of Lord Rondegate that had spied Thea singing and taken a notion to her?

Thea put down the glass, clasped her hands together, and commenced the tale. Her Grace of Mulcaster had approached Miss McKeown about certain songs that had been composed by Lady Jane Knighton’s late cousin Grace Billston, that she was very desirous of hearing once more. Miss McKeown declared that her voice was no longer fit for the performance – still had copies – mayhap did she ask Zipsie?

So, she had taken the songs to Zipsie, that had been very impressed, and said, why, she could, she dared say, sing 'em, but seemed to her that they were better suited to Thea’s voice. And had tried 'em over with Thea, and they were very lovely songs –

But.

She looked up at her auditors. The words are from poems by Sappho, and was not Sappho a pagan poet?

I apprehend, said Grissie, that she was an antient Greek and thus would not have had the benefits of Christian revelation. But Thea dear, you would not be performing these songs publicly, would you?

Thea shook her head.

Nora gave a little gulp, and cleared her throat, and said, is it for Lady Jane, that is so noted for her good works, and wishes this remembrance of a departed friend, I am not sure one can see any harm. But mayhap I might ask Hughie – and Sister Linnet –

 Thea jumped up to kiss her cousin. That would be an immense kindness.

She desired 'em to tell her of their own news – was there not some matter of looking over one of Myo’s brother’s Oxford friends that might suit Jimsie as a secretary?

Oh, indeed, said Myo, a Mr Averdale, second son of a country squire in the Midlands somewhere – has his own way to make in the world one understands – a very clever fellow that has won scholarships and prizes – already shows a grasp of what the position would entail – proposed that he should come for a probationary period over the summer –

Do you not spend the summer at Worblewood?

Quite so! Will provide a quiet retreat – well, moderately quiet, Mr Chilfer has writ a very kind letter saying that he would be at leisure to come explore what he fancies is our buried Roman villa, and are we having excavations I am like to think Lucie and Lewis will both be very ardent to come and dig – quite aside from the attractions of the trout-stream – Grinnie may have other invitations but of course would ever be welcome –

I wonder, said Grissie with a grin, whether Lady Balstrup intends pass the summer at Attings.

Myo gave a little groan. Though I am more concerned about any gatherings my father purposes at Roughton Arching. At least we shall not be obliged to attend any revels there.

But, she thought, Worblewood was perhaps a little too close to Roughton Arching for Nora’s peace of mind. They had not considered over this problem yet. Mayhap she should go to Monk’s Garrowby with Grissie and Greg though one doubted whether she would find the Merrett uproar congenial.

She would doubtless be happiest with Aggie and Hughie but, the East End, in the height of summer? However, did she stay with the Pockinfords, she was like to feel a persecuted martyr, even was that prig Simon about his travels by then.

self-censorship

Jun. 27th, 2025 02:02 pm
rivkat: Rivka as Wonder Woman (Default)
[personal profile] rivkat

no good, very bad thing: for the first time ever, I carefully concealed my Star of David scrunchie to do an interview in case it became a distraction. I try hard not to self-censor, but ...


Seaside fun for Goths?

Jun. 27th, 2025 03:42 pm
oursin: Hedgehog saying boggled hedgehog is boggled (Boggled hedgehog)
[personal profile] oursin

I was a little startled to see, quite so high up in the chart of UK's best and worst seaside towns, Dungeness. Which isn't really even a town (Wikipedia describes it as a hamlet), more a sandspit at the end of the Romney Hythe and Dymchurch Light Railway, famed for lighthouses, shingle beaches, nature reserves, Derek Jarman's Prospect Cottage, and a decommissioned nuclear power station ('Long journey ahead' for nuclear plant clean-up).

[A] barren and bewitching backdrop for a getaway. A vast swathe of this shingle headland is designated a National Nature Reserve, cradling around a third of all British plant species, with some 600 having been recorded, from rugged sea kale to delicate orchids. Exposed to the Channel and loomed over by twin nuclear power stations, Dungeness has, over recent decades, become an unlikely enclave for artists and a popular spot for day-trippers, horticulturalists and birders alike.

Or even
The ghostly allure of Dungeness, Kent. It’s an arid and mysterious place, yet it’s precisely these charms that captivate visitors.

Looking at the criteria scored on, it really is rather weird: completely lacking in the hotels, shopping and seafront/pier categories and not much for tourist attractions but scores high on peace and quiet and scenery.

Perhaps there is a larger number of people looking for this kind of getaway experience, invoking a certain eerie folk-horror vibe, than one would suppose. Not really a Summer Skies and Golden Sands kind of experience, take it away, The Overlanders.

Surprised that somewhere like Margate didn't rate higher.

The next Bond?

Jun. 27th, 2025 08:26 am
firecat: damiel from wings of desire tasting blood on his fingers. text "i has a flavor!" (Default)
[personal profile] firecat
OK, who should be the next Bond? I’m impressed by the wide range of suggestions here. I especially liked the suggestion for Rege-Jean Page. No one mentioned Joseph Mawle, Edward Bluemel, Harry Lloyd, or Matthew Goode, though. Or Tobias Menzies!

What do you think?

Guardian readers make nominations for the next Bond

(no subject)

Jun. 27th, 2025 09:43 am
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] coalescent!

Connexions (12)

Jun. 27th, 2025 08:38 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
Like being under an enchantment

There was a deal to think over from the past few days – sure they were enjoying a crowded hour of glorious life! – had certainly not expected quite the social whirl that they had been plunged into. They had anticipated visiting various of the famed sights of Town – mayhap attending a lecture or scientific demonstration or so at one or other of the learned societies – Shallock, for they had long been in the habit of calling him thus, rather than standing on ceremony, had said that the Grigsons’ box at the theatre would be at their disposal – one heard there were numerous opportunities for hearing music –

But they had never expected to meet some of the names that they had read of in the newspapers – whose writings they had perused –

And all so very civil, nay, even amiable. Perchance novels that depicted Society as haughty and exclusive and snubbing rather exaggerated the matter? – to point a moral and adorn a tale to warn against social climbing?

Humphrey Thornton glanced out of the train window and observed that they were now past the depressing southwards extension of the city’s purlieu, and into the attractive Surrey countryside.

Quite dazzling to the second son of a medical practitioner in a provincial town! – and indeed to all their set, that were of similarly humble background, had careers to make, were not at Oxford simply because 'twas a done thing, had had the deepest suspicions of Shallock until they had become better acquainted and found him a somewhat shy chap that was quite dedicated to the pursuit of scholarship. Far from wasting his substance in riotous living was discovered on rather a meagre allowance eked out by his godfather’s generosity.

Yet one came to perceive that 'twas not just like pretty soap bubbles – there was a deal there that was solid – these were not idle triflers

Had had the most agreeable discourse with Lord South Worpley, the heir of the Duke of Humpleforth, about lepidoptera, that took a serious interest in – was minded to construct a butterfly house at Maraston Towers. Mr Thornton had perhaps already heard that his step-grandmother, the Dowager Duchess – that is her, over there – had set up a menagerie of Indian birds and beasts, to remind her of her childhood, in the grounds of the Dower House?

There was a vague suggestion that he might come visit during the summer, but Humphrey did not make too much of that – it was surely a mere civil social gesture to a fellow butterfly-lover.

It had been daunting to be introduced to Miss Ferraby and her companion Miss Roberts, but really, they were not the terrifying harridans some accounts led one to anticipate – still quite young and very fine-looking women, even did one not wish one’s sisters to peruse the writings of Miss Ferraby, or at least, not until they were somewhat older.

So, here he was, on his way to Yeomans to consider whether he might have a fancy to a post as tutor in their establishment to the orphans they had collected. He must admit, he greatly liked the sound of the enterprize – a deal more agreeable than cramming the sons of the wealthy with Latin and Greek in the approved style. Had already had certain notions about different ways of teaching the classics – and mathematics – and giving a broader education: but had gloomily thought that one would be required to conform to whatever the parents desired.

This was the station – and there was Miss Roberts herself on the platform, very kind indeed. Had fancied he might have to take the station fly – but no, she had had to come into town with the gig, to take certain packages to the Post Office, and collect certain parcels that were waiting in the railway station Goods Office, it was no trouble at all.

They disposed themselves and their parcels in the gig – O, the beggings and pleadings of the children that they might come, or at least one or another might have the pleasure of the jaunt, but we should be somewhat crowded – had not quite anticipated the extent of these parcels –

By the bye, Mr Thornton, Lord Peregrine mentioned that you had some interest in writing for the press? – Humphrey nodded – I fancy a deal of these bundles are books for review, and I would happily pass over some of that task.

He gulped and stammered that would be delighted – did she think him fit –

We may talk of this further later – let us make ourselves known to one another a little better than one is able in the press of a social occasion.

By the time they came to the fine tree-lined drive to Yeomans he was chatting to her with entire ease about his family – his lack of interest in medicine – the excellent set he had fallen into at Oxford –

What a very charming house – and there, on the portico, three women waiting.

A manservant came to take the parcels, as Miss Roberts made the introductions – Humphrey’s mouth quite fell open as he was made known to Mrs Veriker, the noted botanist, an elderly lady with an ear trumpet and quite the kindest expression – and Mrs Marshall – Ellen – the governess, that was, he apprehended, a married lady whose husband was a reporter for the Lowndes press. Miss Ferraby he had already met.

Miss Ferraby conducted 'em indoors and said, had no doubt Mr Thornton would like some refreshment – should he care for coffee?

The most agreeable parlour with a fine view to the gardens, where he could see several children of assorted ages playing very amiably upon the lawn. While they were dressed in what he could see were sensible practical garments, there was no air of their being uniformed orphans.

Mrs Veriker came sit down beside him, turning her ear trumpet to its best angle for converse, and said, understood he was interested in lepidoptera? Had had a notion that one might plant a plot with flowers and shrubs said particular attractive to butterflies and moths –

What a capital idea!

Miss Ferraby chuckled. La, one might write that up in several ways, might one not, Hannah? Very serious and scientific for The Speculum – somewhat a little lighter for The Oracle – and as a pretty notion for the garden in The Lady’s What-Not!

Miss Roberts groaned and said, Indeed one did do exactly the like, 'twas quite a matter of oeconomy, but it was a splendid thought.

Excellent instructive for the children! put in Mrs Marshall.

Humphrey was urged to more coffee and not to be shy about helping himself to cake – that was indeed excellent cake.

He remarked upon the vista from the window and was urged to go take a better look out – Miss Roberts went over with him to point out various features, and to name the children for him –

That is Kate, that is our eldest, very responsible and big-sisterly, we fancy she has artistic talent but would not push her on too fast – Sallington conveys her the occasional lesson –

She grinned at his expression. O, he is quite an intimate of the household! Was very much part of our nursery-set at Raxdell House in childhood – my brother Julius –

Julius Roberts the botanist?

– Quite so! – remains his greatest friend, resides nearby to his estate at Nitherholme undertaking a survey of the flora of the moors – that is Johnny, that at present has a passion for insects and other creeping life, we hope that it may become a serious study but may be the usual passing fancy of a boy –

Jamie is not an entire orphan, but his father is in America, raising interest for the Irish struggle – also has a grandmother, but she is a nun.

There was, Humphrey observed, a certain Hibernian cast to the boy’s features, as well as red hair.

They will be your pupils – as you see, our others are somewhat younger – Theo, that is Ellen's son, Beatrice, and Miranda are but recently advanced to the schoolroom, while Hari is not quite at those years, and Ellen’s Caro is still a baby.

Hari? The still uncut hair swept straight and inky black down his back, and his complexion was golden-tawny.

Miss Roberts smiled. An infant in whom the Dowager Duchess of Humpleforth takes an interest – she was born and brought up in Bombay, still has relatives there –

Ah. One fancied perchance an offspring of one of those unions that were no longer so common, or maybe conducted a deal more clandestine, that the father wished to give the advantage of an English upbringing and education.

What a very handsome child.

Is he not? An Indian boy one might quite imagine the fairy monarchs at odds over.

One of the children – the girlchild Miranda – observing them being observed, stumped over to the window to stare back.

Oh, that is Miranda! Has a great curiosity.

Might I go meet 'em all? he asked, feeling somewhat nervous at the prospect.

Miss Ferraby chuckled. Do you concede do they require you to be a tiger.

A tiger?

'Tis a game of theirs –

'Tis a game we used to play in the Raxdell House nursery, said Miss Roberts. But I surmize Mr Thornton is not a tiger – Still, let us go out.

It was an agreeably warm day with just a faint refreshing breeze. An ornamental fountain plashed gently.

Come, children, called Miss Ferraby, come and meet Mr Thornton.

They were extreme eager to demonstrate to him all the charms of the gardens – and lead him further on to the park – there is a badger, but 'tis very shy and retiring, besides the rabbits –

Miss Ferraby gave a small sigh, and explained, sotto voce, that they were like to think that her brother Josh had rescued it from a baiting-ring, that still afflicted its spirits.

Had he seen the wombatt?

Wombatt?

La, said Miss Roberts, 'tis now a triumph of taxidermy indoors – when Josh was younger 'twas quite the darling of his heart.

That must be Mr Josiah Ferraby, the famed explorer and zoologist and ardent advocate of humane treatment of animals. Really, this was so unusual and so alluring an establishment – he supposed he should talk it over in more sober mood – at present was like being under an enchantment – sure was not Mrs Veriker the entire image of a Wise Good Witch in a fairytale, as she poked among the wild flowers making little exclamations?

Mrs Marshall smiled at him as if she knew somewhat of the sensation.

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March 2019

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