The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 4

by Beth Brower

Aunt Eugenia was occupied all afternoon with a meeting for her charitable society: Fashionable Ladies for the Obliteration of the Poor. Or rather FLOP, which is the preferred nomenclature of Arabella and myself. I asked Aunt once if that meant they were trying to eliminate poverty or the poor themselves. Her answer was swift. “I’m not certain a distinction is needed, Emma. They both achieve the same end. If I had my way, there would be no very poor, only a clean, well-dressed lower class that lives to serve. Now stop asking impertinent questions.”

Is it immoral to marry a man solely to gain a library? And if that man happens to be tremendously good looking, is it more or less of a sin?

They might not be of the Old Testament variety—Pierce, Islington, and Hawkes—but whatever strange confluence of events led to them holding me up was the gentlest hand of fate I’ve ever encountered. It might even be Divine.