My friend who is getting married has asked me to be her maid of honour, which I have accepted. As such she asked me to help decorate and organise the wedding details; however, her mother is very defensive and resents my interference. What would you suggest I do to please both daughter and mother's wishes?

- K.S.

First of all, I would not try to hinder your friend's mother. The wedding is mainly the responsibility of the bride's mother, and she seems to be taking this duty very seriously. I suggest that you get on her good side, perhaps by encouraging some of her ideas, and mainly work on things she has not tended to. If the mother becomes too aggressive, however, you may wish to ask your friend to speak with her.

My brother and his wife recently adopted two children, and I think they made the wrong choice. The two are very quiet and skittish and rarely look anyone in the eye. Personally, I think they're being a bit ungrateful to the people who took them in. Is there any way to approach my brother about this issue, or should I bite my tongue?

- A.L.

The latter. Many children coming from orphanages have either had very little love or a lot of hate, usually both, and it takes time to adjust to a more normal lifestyle. They will likely come out of their shells in time, but until then they should be given some space. I do not think people adopt to be appreciated, they do it to bring comfort to a child.

And the people who do adopt to be appreciated shouldn't be permitted to. - M.

Recently a friend of mine has stopped speaking to me. I am moving away from the area soon, and I want to talk to her but she refuses to do so and even goes so far as to avoid me! What do I do?

And also...this may be a bit of a personal question, but is it really true that Dr. Watson's wife died in childbirth?

- R.T.

Your friend may be reacting to your moving; she may feel that if she cuts the ties now, the parting will be easier. If she will not talk to you, write her a letter explaining how you wish to remain close to her once you leave. Hopefully she will read it and respond.

Mrs. Watson died of a cancer.

Dear Mrs. Holmes, I was wondering, has your brother-in-law ever had any trouble during his investigations due to his fame? Doctor Watson's stories are extremely popular, after all.

- S.E.

There actually was an incident where Holmes was in disguise at a bar attempting to discreetly inquire about a lady thief he was on the trail of. The bartender recognized him and announced him loudly to the entire establishment and his mark slipped out from under his thumb. It was actually fairly recent, and he was quite mad over that... Dr. Watson says he did not speak to him for nearly two days.

Sherlock always was one to sulk. I merely wish he had extended the two days so that Dr. Watson could get a true vacation. - M.

My son is at that age where he's just learning to read, but I'm not certain what books are considered appropriate for his age and reading level. Do you have any suggestions?

Also, did Sherlock and your husband have any favourite books as children?

- T.S.

"A Child's History of England" by Mr. Charles Dickens is a longstanding favourite with most children, as is the quick classic "Alice in Wonderland" (although I never quite liked it). Children's poetry is ideal for those just starting to read because of its simplicity, and authors such as Mr. Edward Lear write mainly for children.

Sherlock's favourite book as a boy was "King Lear", and Mycroft's was "Geology and Mineralogy considered with reference to Natural Theology". I am starting to wonder just what I will be reading my own child to sleep to...

Best to practise your Latin, just in case. - M.

Has your brother-in-law Sherlock Holmes expressed his preference for a niece or nephew? (Of course the end result is completely out of his hands; I'm only curious as to which gender he would prefer to be an uncle to.)

- P.Y.

Being the misogynist that he is, Sherlock has made it perfectly clear that he would prefer a boy. As you've said, however, it's not up to him or anyone else. Thankfully. While I only wish for a healthy child, I would not at all mind a little girl...

I may be the only person who simply doesn't care. - M.

I have a brother I will not name who has a sense of humour that often goes, shall we say, over the top? He plays pranks on anyone in his sight and some of them are funny to only him. Recently, he thought it would be hilarious to take out an obituary for himself. Friends and relatives out of our area actually thought he was dead and are planning to travel here at great expense to be with us "at this difficult time". My brother has forbidden me to tell them the truth and I do want to obey him, but surely this isn't right...

- B.L.

It isn't. This is taking advantage of the emotions of the people closest to your brother, and if he does not see that is wrong, it is up to you to do it. Write to your relatives. If you do not wish your brother to find out, also request that those you write to say they heard it from another source.

My husband has been trying to expand his vocabulary in order to sound more intelligent, but the problem is when he uses the words he reads, he mispronounces them or sometimes uses them completely out of context, usually causing embarrassment. Would it crush him terribly if I corrected him once in a while?

- W.D.

If you do it gently and not in a scolding manner, corrections will help his goal to seem more literate (much more so than mispronunciations). Do it in private, however; no one likes to be corrected in front of peers.

elsewhere in London:

"Can I ask you something…?" Ann Marie asked voice tentative as she placed the tea tray between them in the sitting room. "About your pregnancy, I mean."

Rose gave a nod that was just as timid. "I suppose."

"You're five and a half months along, so… Have you felt it yet? The baby, I mean?"

The dark woman shook her head, a cross between a smile and a frown on her face. "No, not yet. I should soon, though. My doctor said so, in any case. My doctor from back home. I haven't found one in London yet." She did not mention that she had inquired at several practices and had been denied as a client. Her husband was content enough with government doctors, but she was not.

The younger one of them heard the unspoken words. "Before you go, I'll give you Dr. Elsi's calling card. He treats me, and he's mentioned he has some open spots. I know some people won't go to a Jewish doctor under threat of death, but…"

"I'm hardly one to avoid a doctor on that basis," sighed Rose, taking a sip of the tea. "… This is every bit as good as people say you make it. What's your secret?"

"I wish people would believe that I have no secret… It's merely one of my few talents. You must have your own; you mentioned you danced?"

Her dark cheeks flushed at this. "Like I said, not professionally. My mother was a professional ballerina and she taught me at home. I don't have the nerve to perform, truth be told, and I wouldn't be good enough anyway."

"I'd doubt that. You're so… graceful!" Ann Marie beamed. "You have those long legs… You carry yourself with so much dignity, even with our… condition."

"It's really not so bad," Rose attempted to assure, not able to restrain a smile.

"Easy for you to say; you're a good head taller than me."

"From what you say of him in your columns, I doubt Mr. Holmes would mind," she pointed out, wondering if the act of adoration was a mere front. "Or is he… different?"

"Oh, no! He's the kindest man you'll ever know. I know he won't care a mite, but…" She sighed, running her finger along the edge of the tea saucer. "I like to be beautiful for him. He does so much and I can do so little else."

Rose smirked, bowing her head a bit to hide it. "You're giving him a child; should that not be enough?"

Mycroft Holmes was not going to place Michael Abbot on his personal team; he wished him to remain at Whitehall, and placing the poor man in with his own underlings would drive him away in days. Instead, however, he was the new head geologist, and one he considered himself lucky to acquire.

"We really must introduce our wives," Mycroft mentioned. "Ann's other close friends are a bit… immature, and it must be good to talk with a woman who is… Well, who is going through a similar experience."

Michael Abbot was not a particularly tall man, and therefore was dwarfed by his new employer (though to be fair, his wife was taller than him when she wore high boots). In his early thirties, there was still that enthusiasm he hoped Whitehall would not suck out of him. His skin was almost light enough to be half white, not helped by his chestnut hair. "I agree, Mr. Holmes. Rose hasn't taken to London all that well. A friend could make all the different. Besides, she's a fan of hers. Every week I here what Mrs. Holmes says about what."

The portly man chuckled, shaking his head. "This is the same woman who can't find the sugar dish when it's right under her nose." He pushed open the door to his house. "Ann...? I was wondering if you'd mind a third for dinner. I'd like you to meet..."

"Mr. Abbot, I know." The girl emerged from the sitting room, followed by the dark woman. "Rose said he was coming. I hope you don't mind a fourth?"

Mycroft shook his head slowly, restraining a sigh. He had no idea how the society of women worked that way, and he truly had no wish to find out.

AN: Sorry for the shortness; posting this post-birthday party. I am now part of the voting public, so beware, Stephen Harper! The bonus is a little piece with Mycroft and his mother, set shortly after "When the Clock Stops".