Febuary 4th 1805

Abbé insists that my writing wont improve unless I keep practising. He tells me to read as well which I like much better. Reading is far easier than trying to write all these stupid blasted lines. Abbé is kind about it but I know my spelling is horrid.

The Marquis has offered to tutor me in my spelling but I know him better than that. Writing isn't the only thing on his dirty mind.