In the morning I just laid in bed thinking of the night before, everything passing through my mind, then something surfaced, Watson didn't know about my cat. How could Sherlock Holmes have known that? That put me in a panicked state. With that I climbed out of my warm and comfortable bed, got dressed in my blue dress, the one I would wear to church , now remember I was trying to keep my appearance up. I had a feeling that the men were going to let me sleep in, because of my long trip, but I was up in time for breakfast. I walked to the hall as usual, my steps were very silent, I heard Holmes talking, so I stood at the bottom of the stair, and listened.
"Watson, you said that her family was well off."
"Yes," Watson replied, with a curious streak in that word.
Holmes then said, "Her boots have been resoled, and she didn't have an umbrella, when any girl in England would have had one last night."
I could hear what I thought was a grumble from Watson, "I didn't know…"
"And her dresses must be hand downs from someone, possibly her mother."
Now I could have barged in there to say something, but then they would have known that I had been listening in. So I snuck back to my room for a moment and sat on my bed, looking at the boots on my feet. Now I realize why my mother made us look like we were rich, it hurt a lot to realize that I was in fact poor. I wouldn't let that tear come rolling down my cheek; I had to be strong, like my father was. If my Father was still alive this all wouldn't be happening, I would be in the country side eating breakfast, with the rooster crowing and the servants rushing around the house.
My Father had been a gentle and sweet man; he would drop anything to help someone he didn't even know. He had been wounded saving a troop of his friends in Afghanistan, my Father was an officer, and that he died saving his men. I had been numb since he died, and the reality of my situation of a new father was sinking in more and more each day. I was dreading the voyage to American because I knew that it would hit me more.
My steps were louder as I walked into the hall and made my way up those stairs, hearing Holmes announce that I was on my way. My hand weakly knocked at the door, and I heard Holmes yell," Come in" and so I did. I came to see the room in the day light and trust me it was a strange sight. The chemicals were all different colours, the wall had bullet holes, and papers flooded a desk by the wall, there was so much that I cannot even explain, but again I was in no position to complain.
