Dearest Boo

You were right, Josiah will not countenance my running a school. Oh, I am so cross with him! I told him all my dreamings and plannings and he listened with such a sour face I thought he was ill. After I had finished explaining my notion he waved his handkerchief at me as if I was one of the staff, said ‘What nonsense you talk, woman!’ and went back to reading his newspaper.

I was left feeling like a silly fool and I confess I swept past his gouty foot as I got up to leave the room. How he roared! I shall pretend to be sorry later but I am not.

I am not going to give up my idea yet, not after all my efforts to think it up. But I shall not ask Josiah for help until his gout has left him. Heavens, we may even have to go to Cheltenham or Bath for a treatment. I shall do whatever I need to turn his mood in my favour!

Until next time, Boo. Give Little Bradstone a big wobble and a kiss


His Aunt Effie x

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