Someone is coming.
I had better put these things away…
I guess I’ll be stuck in this prison for ever.
Now, I suppose, it is time to reflect upon my life.
I really couldn’t think of anything to write. I am constantly thinking of Charming, perhaps I should draw a picture of him…
My penmanship is not exactly perfect, but my art is much worse.
I was not exactly the favorite in our home, let’s say, so I was not taught the beautiful things that young ladies learn such as painting and singing. However, I do darn socks, sew frocks, and brush locks.
I am not worthy to be my husband’s wife. Oh poor Charming, what has happened to him?
Oh dear! What have I done? I have feebly attempted to draw myself into my notebook, and have added “plus wife.” That makes “Charming husband plus wife,” which sounds terribly dreadful, for it makes me sound charming! Oh dear! I am so ashamed! I am crying now.
What if Charming was to find this? Perhaps he is free and is coming here to rescue me! But no, how could he rescue me? How could he ever find me here? But just suppose that he did. What if he saw my journal that I hold, and saw these drawings, and thought (well, he is such a dear, he will understand) that I was presumptuously arrogant–
Someone has been watching me.