Snowfall

Snowfall

13 January 1812 Gracechurch Street

My Dearest Mary,

I am so happy to have your letters to join with Jane’s, and I hope you will be a diligent correspondent, as I expect my stay here to be of some duration. Perhaps you and Jane might share your respective letters if it pleases you.

We had snowfall over the last few days, which blanketed the world in white just like a winter fairyland. The children and I went out to make snowmen, and a wonderful time was had by all. It reminded me so much of when we were children and succumbed to the infrequent snow in furious bouts of joyfulness. Emily ended up covered from head to foot in snow and ice, just like we once did. Elijah is quite the deadeye with snowballs, or at least he fashioned himself as such until I demonstrated true skill. I do hope he recovers from the mortification of being bested by a mere girl before his wedding day, but since that is at least a decade hence, I believe he has a better than even chance. I managed to refrain from letting him know that you are even better (just barely).

Unfortunately, this is London, so a day or two later, the pristine promise of beauty and felicity had turned into sooty and dirty grey and black. Perhaps it is a suitable metaphor for our last three months. I have lately noticed I do not have quite the contented nature that has been my usual for most of my life. I am not morose, per se, just not as sanguine as I once was.

With too much time on my hands, I naturally employ it in the worst possible manner: thinking and brooding. There is a small park near our uncle’s house where I walk, but Uncle insists I always be attended by one of his footmen. This means I do not have the freedom to come and go as I please. John makes himself available at my convenience, but he also has other duties, and I feel guilty about taking him away very often. He should not go to bed late just because I wish for a longer walk.

I am so happy that you have allowed Papa to convince you to read Shakespeare’s works, and I am even happier that you suggested we discuss your thoughts by post. I believe it will be most enlightening. Perhaps you might convince Jane to read the same volume, though I realise that may be harder than it sounds.

Your pensive sister, Elizabeth