Dear Frank,

I overheard Sarah and the kitchenmaid talking—no, gossiping—about you the other day! I could not believe my ears; apparently you've been courting a lady by the name of Margaret Hackshaw? She also mentioned something about sending Mary off to some boarding school in Wales. If that were all true I'd be fuming mad and have half a mind to take one of the horses and ride down to London to give you a piece of my mind!

But I know that it's all poppycock—do excuse my language—and of course you still love me. If you didn't, you wouldn't have sent me up here to keep me safe. I thank the Lord every day for you and how caring you are to keep me away from all that dirty business down in London, I just wished you could have let Mary come along with me, as well.

How is she faring? I do hope she understands I haven't left her on purpose; she is, after all, only going onto her sixth year.

With love,

E.