Dear Diary,
I feel I was not the only one who felt sorrow at the departure of Danielle St Amour this morning. Everyone came out upon the steps to see her off. I helped her into her carriage and found it difficult to relinquish her hand. She sat down by the window and waved at the others gathered upon the steps.
I looked up at her and into her smiling green eyes and blurted out;
"I feel a great deal of affection for you Miss St Amour, as I have done from the first moment I saw you and I should very much like to see you again."
"Oh, Mr Austen, " she looked alarmed, "Don't, please don't!" She waved the coachman on and left me standing upon the gravel, feeling bereft and wondering why she should affect me so.
Luckily, I had a prearranged engagement with Miss Dixon who had invited me to take some air with her and so I rode to Netherton and we enjoyed a very pretty walk indeed and it was a welcome distraction. She is amusing company and insisted on providing lunch. It was indeed a feast with seasonal fruits and soup to start followed by delicious slices of ham.
"What ham is this?" I enquired.
"Let us just say it is 'Birming...ham!" She smiled, "I acquired it from a fellow from Nuneaton."
It was indeed a lovely day and the weather was more appropriate for the time of year. I returned home in the evening and at once the mornings events came back to me.
I wandered the garden in the twilight and found Ned beneath one of his fruit trees.
"Mr Austen, I think I know how you feel. I miss squeezing Titty, but cheer up. Come, nibble my plums."
Kristin Chenowith - Home
14 years ago
6 comments:
Wayne, if you ever go with Miss Dixon to Nuneaton, you should look up the Evans family. They have a son named Gary Dan, with whom I think you'd find you had a lot in common.
-h
Dear Wayne,
I must admit I am a bit concerned about Miss Dixon's choice of ham.
Poor Ned it must be hard for him not to be able to give Titty a squeeze when the urge arises. Do take him up on his offer to nibble his plums they must by now be plump and luscious and full of sweet juices.
Yours salivating,
B.
My dear distant 'Hilda?'
Gary Dan Evans? How cruel parents can be!...and having to live in Nuneaton too. My heart bleeds.
Yours sympathetically,
Wayne Austen
My dear Mr 'Moose'
Although Ned's plums looked firm and rosy in my hand I fear they should be allowed to ripen for some weeks more. I resisted the temptation to partake of them.
Yours cautiously,
Wayne Austen
Wayne,
Gary Dan agrees with your opinion of his unfortunate name, so he usually calls himself "George".
-h
Dear Wayne,
Don't wait too long, plums like Ned's don't grow on trees.
Indubitably yours,
B.
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