The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

by Beth Brower

I hope all is well at Spencer Court. I miss you. I do not miss your mother. Stay where you are.

Pierce looked particularly well this afternoon.

Mary: “Now, had you been a town crier…” Emma: “No question, Mary.” Mary: “You would have excelled.” Emma: “You speak the truth.”

For a moment I thought perhaps I ought to apply the lesson to my own life, but rational thought and a good dose of assurance put an end to self-improvement.

As I prepared Pierce a cup of tea, Islington decided it was again time for open war. “Have you seen Miss Lion’s latest attempts at infamy?”

I’m wearing my red gown, but tempted to change into my oldest, most comfortable affair. Let it be noted, however, that I have looked nice.

Gospel.