The Wind

September 4, 1896
Margaret Spooner

I thought Carrington Manor was overcrowded last year. If it was, then this year it is ready to burst open at the seams. There are more first year ladies in attendance than all other years combined and it shows in the noise level. Studying is a feat of concentration as the gossip never ceases no matter what room you occupy. I have even been informed twice by young ladies that Maggie Spooner is engaged. The irony is of course lost on them but I do find it amusing.

Edgar checks in on me daily much to the annoyance of Mrs. Carrington. She had threatened to permanently ban him, but Mr. Carrington took care of that. I almost felt sorry for her being spanked in front of Edgar and I, then I recalled her treatment of me at the end of last term. I will save my pity for those who actually deserve it.

Speaking of, there is at least one new girl whom I might have made friends with. Her name is Sarah and like me, she does not exactly fit within the moldings of these stone walls. Edgar does not like her much and he would prefer I stayed away from her but she reminds me so much of myself when I was new here. I cannot help but be drawn to her and all I wish to do is to help. I know what it means to have a friend when you are surrounded by strangers.

Classes have gone smoothly. I do not much care for the new music teacher. There is something, slimy, about him. I cannot point to evidence but he gives me the shivers when he looks at me. I met his wife and she is completely normal and lovely and self absorbed. She has probably never noticed her husband has a wandering eye among other things. Perhaps it is God’s justice that they are bound to each other, if not he must have a sense of humor at least.

Mr. Calloway from Brown is conducting the English course until a replacement can be found for Ms. Maple. Tragic news about her, I knew before coming but somehow it was not real until I was seated in her classroom and she was not there. Some of the ladies cried at the news, I was not able to though. Does that make me evil? I hope not, I did like her but my tears are not for mere acquaintances.

Mr. Calloway clearly does not enjoy teaching at Primrose. In our first class he broke out his leather strap and walloped the hands of everyone in the class. We had not done anything to deserve it, but in his mind it was necessary that each of us understood the consequences of misbehavior in his classroom. I wanted to ask if he treats the boys the same way but somehow I think the question would not have been well received. I hope they find a replacement soon.

I spoke with mother and father on the telephone this morning. It only took about five minutes to connect and I must say it is quite amazing to be able to speak to them from so far away. Mother was amusing.

“Is that you Margaret?” She asked.

“Yes mother.” I replied.

“It does not sound like you Margaret.” She said.

“It is me, mother.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, mother.”

And so it went on until finally father grabbed the telephone away from her. I was trying to decide whether to laugh or pull my hair out in the end I decided on laughter. Father appreciated the choice and had a good chuckle with me as well.

We spoke at length about the wedding plans. Father thought it would be well arranged to plan for the upcoming holiday season. Mother disagreed and was insisting on a spring wedding. They argued for several minutes and I began to wonder why I was needed for the conversation since my opinion and thoughts were apparently irrelevant.

In the end father suggested I discuss it with Edgar and let them know our decision soon. I assured them I would and sent them my love and a kiss. It seems awkward to do so through a machine. In many ways I prefer the familiarity of paper and pen. There is something more personal about a letter which is lost in the telephone call. Maybe it is the connection of the letter itself from my hands to theirs. The paper can convey something more of me because it was touched by me, held by me.

The world is changing though and I will have to change along with it. Machines are spreading and soon they will be everywhere. Electricity will be delivered by wire to every home, every building and with it we will illuminate our world in ways yet to be imagined. I might need some time to breathe, to adapt, but I am ready. Changes are inevitable and the first will soon be upon me as I tie my life to Edgar’s. Till death do us part.