The correspondence began here.

Dear Amelia,

There are only a few days now and I suppose this will be my last letter before our visit together. I must own that I am very curious to see you and what you have become. I always knew that you would be a fine young woman. I only regret that your marriage ended so prematurely for you are far too young for widowhood. Perhaps we can put our heads together on that score for I know many suitable families.

Your attitude to the young woman you speak of is most gratifying and demonstrates that you have at last learned to think of others. In truth I remember another young woman who had wild fancies of what life held for her; a career as a woman journalist if I recall.

Do you remember our walk in the rose garden and the little talk that followed in the nursery? I do hope you do, for then I can take the credit for your demure wisdom in the case of this hapless would-be photographer of yours.

The final arrangements have been made I shall depart the day after tomorrow.

Yours respectfully,

Jane

*

My Dearest Miss Carlisle,

I do indeed remember our walk in the rose garden and the ‘little talk’ we had in the nursery afterwards. You can indeed take the credit for my improvement. As I recall that not so short conversation was conducted with a long stout hairbrush addressed with prolonged application to my completely bare bottom. You made me so thoroughly ashamed of my reckless and inappropriate ambitions that I was almost relieved to be made to fetch that brush myself and offer it to you.

I tried so hard to be brave, but I rather fear that my cries could be heard as far away as the village. My poor behind stung and ached for days afterwards and I do not think I could sit down for a week.

I blush as I remember how you sent me to the corner like an errant child with my skirts pinned aloft and my undergarments puddled at my ankles. I cried for an hour, more so when you sent for the maid and in my exposed presence ordered tea to be served in the nursery. The whole house knew of my shame.

I can only confess that being so thoroughly put in my place was the making of me. One can only be cruel to be kind.

As for the other matter you spoke of. I do not think I wish to remarry, not at present at any rate. We shall talk more when you arrive.

Yours most humbly,

Amelia

To be continued…