Hello my dears!
Aunty M is once again on hand to offer you sound advice on all your problems, no matter how amusing. Today’s letter is from a young governess who has got herself into rather a pickle:
Dear Aunty M,
I beg your indulgence in hearing my tale. I have lived a sheltered, modest life; shunned by my benefactor and educated in a cruel parish boarding school, so it must come as no surprise when I write to say I find myself most unequipped to deal with my current situation. T’is most scandalous, but I am torn between two lovers.
The first I met while working as a governess to his young charge. He has a reputation for being a most disagreeable man, but I must confess I saw something of an angel in him. He challenged me so and sought to debate and mock me, which apparently meant he was in love with me. When he asked for my hand in marriage, I felt as though my very soul was on fire. Alas, he very nearly slandered my good name, for he was already married to another. Indeed, if it had not been for the Masons I may never have learned my beloved had a mad wife whom he locked up in the attic until it was too late.
With the remains of my shattered heart – and my rather meagre belongings- I fled across the moors through wind and rain. My very life may have but sputtered out were it not for the kindness of a local clergyman and his sisters. They tended to me, cared for me and even found me a position as headmistress of their newly formed village school for girls. The clergyman soon asked for my hand and to join him as a missionary’s wife. I confessed I had no such feelings for him and he found this not only an acceptable state of affairs, but he took my reluctance for impetuousness and gave me quite the tongue lashing.
I am afraid I have been left rather agitated by the whole affair, as what joy can my newly inherited fortune bring me when my heart is rent asunder so?
You are my last hope,
Jane
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Aunty M writes:
Jane. Darling. Let me say just one thing:
They’re both dicks.
Jane, they’re both dicks.
They’re both dicks, Jane.
Take your fortune and live it up somewhere sunny – I hear Monte Carlos is a good place to find a toy-boy and get a little wild.
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| St. John... Monte Carlo... |
Seriously, screw them. One’s a liar, one’s a prig and neither of them seem to accept you have a mind of your own. Well, okay, the first one maybe, but he had a mad wife locked up in his attic! What kind of lunatic does that? I’ll tell you; the kind that ends up on the evening news after a dog started digging in his back garden and unearthed a schoolgirl’s leg.
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| Mr Rochester... Monte Carlo... |
Just leave both of these pricks well alone and enjoy yourself.
* Ranking based on no actual statistical information
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