1 April, 1884
Your foul husband is mending nicely, though I must admit his demeanor is rather worse now than it was before the unfortunate incident. He has been belligerent to all who have been kind enough to serve him in his time of need, though it was I suppose to be expected based on his family’s background.
Speaking of which, there is some good news to report. Your young nephew Phaedo was quite keen to gather information about occult sciences from Osgoode once he was well enough to speak at length, Phaedo being very interested in spiritualism and Theosophy since he inherited your father’s personal library, however, your husband would have none of it. He claims to have forsaken the entire subject completely, based, apparently, on the fear of some man dressed in black.
While he is getting better and better (he was able to stand for a few moments yesterday) he seems hesitant to rejoin you in New Babbage. He seems rather afraid of the place, and has suggested that if he were to return he would seek a quiet position out of the public eye. So, based on that, you can see that while his body improves with time, his mind seems still rather ill. Perhaps he has acquired brain fever.
I shall write you when I have more to report.
Do send more of those figgy bars, Phaedo and Euridice cannot get enough of them.
I wonder if a “Get Well Soon” would be in order at this point?
*Pays the delivery boy his tip and when he doesn’t clear-off, chuckles and cuts him a slice of the cake she had just finished icing, then leans in the doorway minding him and reading her letter. She touches her fingers to her lips as she finishes it, a thin line forming between her eyes as she folds it and slips it into her skirt pocket.* Hurry up there, Boy, I need to go to the market.
good lord they have more family ????