My dear Father,

I am well here in Ilchester. Aunt Winnie, Jude and Helen have all taken great care to see me comfortable while I visit. The city is so much bigger than I remembered, and I have on one occasion become quite lost in the wandering streets. Please don't worry, for I have since taken to shorter walks, and with company. I've procured this lovely paper set from a small shop in the city market streets. Oh Father, you would have loved to see the remarkable pigments and canvas for painting. Helen tells me that the ladies in town often take to picturesque painting from books of the countryside. I find it terribly amusing that those accustomed to the city long for the beauty of a countryside that they have little knowledge of. I do miss home, and I do not think a book or a painting would help to ease my homesickness.

I hope that all is well for you in the Hotel. Please do write me, or have Elliot send word. I think of you often and you are in my every prayer.

Your loving and dutiful daughter,

Margaret

Margaret dropped the letter on her desk and sighed. She was uncertain how her father would receive the letter. Perhaps she should write a second note to Elliot asking that he save the letter for a day when Father was doing particularly well? She wished for the hundredth time that she were able to care for her Father properly. As it stood, the Hospital was discreet but Margaret lived in constant fear of her father being committed to an asylum.

"Mania" was the word, whispered behind gloved hands and accompanied by shaking heads and pity. For months she pretended that it wasn't serious, that Father was going through a spell and would recover fully. Mr. Henry, Hospital head of staff, was kind to her but firm in his assertions.

"He is manageable," Mr. Henry had said. "We will give him treatment in the moral way. He may improve – God willing. But if he doesn't…" The bulky man paused to clean his spectacles on his handkerchief before returning his gaze to Margaret. "If he deteriorates Miss Wilde, we will need to find another place for him. The York Retreat perhaps."

She knew that the "moral treatment" was one of kindness and cleanliness, a recent development in the field of patient care. The hospital served as more of a gentleman's club, hosting those who were too far gone with drink, those who were physically infirm or well in age but with families who wanted to preserve dignity and respect. Father was allowed to leave in Elliot's care, and was closely monitored by Mr. Henry and his staff. She also knew that The York Retreat was a very well suited and pleasant country hospital run by The Society of Friends … and that the expense of it coupled with the shame of senile dementia would ruin them.

To avoid that, Margaret had to pretend that Father was of sound mind, which was mostly true. Although his memory failed he was still brilliant, and that made her all the more concerned. Without a brother or an uncle or a husband, she had no options for the family financial responsibility. Father was still the head of her family and even from the hospital he could make whatever decisions he wanted. He refused lawyers, and the advise of his financial advisers. She pinned all of her hopes on dear Elliot, that he might keep father from any serious mischief.

Putting these thoughts aside, Margaret moved to join her cousins and aunt downstairs. Jude had invited two other Ilchester ladies to tea, and it was Margaret's first introduction into society. She paused at the hall mirror to check her hair and made her way into the drawing room.

"Oh Maggie, you must be so excited to see new faces after these weeks!" Jude teased. Mrs. Ness, the house servant, was buzzing about the room dusting in preparation for guests. Ilchester, being an industrial city, was far more smoky and dust-laden than the country. Even in the more park-like upper class districts it was as if everyone in the cramped little streets was burning a sooty peat fire at all hours of the day. She felt a pang for the sunshine and barley fields of Alton.

"Not at all cousin," she replied. "In truth, I am anxious about meeting new people. While you have dressed me in the latest fashions, I am afraid my country manners are more difficult to conceal." She gestured at the lace on her new gown.

"They will adore you." Aunt Winnie smiled and patted her shoulder while passing toward the hearth where she sat. "Or they won't. In either case it will not be a reflection on yourself." Aunt Winnie scrunched her nose as if she was already angry with the not-yet-met ladies.

There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Ness hurried out to greet the visitors, followed closely by Jude. There was a moment of quiet before the guests bustled in.

"We are so delighted to meet you," said a young woman with mud colored hair in a bright peach colored dress that swished into the room hand extended toward Margaret. "I'm certain we shall be the best of friends. Won't we Edith?" The woman called back over her shoulder as a second woman, tall and with a scowl followed more cautiously with a wooden smile on her face.

"Absolutely Kitty." The second woman surveyed Margaret in a detached manner while her friend clasped Margaret's hand in excessive excitement. "It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Wilde."

"Margaret, this is Miss Kitty Price and Miss Edith Thornton," Jude introduced, smiling behind the pair and raising her eyebrows to Margaret who stood nearly speechless at Kitty's instant abrasive friendship. Helen's round face was sympathetic standing at her sister's elbow.

"Ah- yes, I am truly pleased to meet you both," Margaret replied and moved toward the seats near the hearth where Aunt Winnie stood. "Do please sit down?"

Tea was served while Jude and Helen caught up on the latest gossip with their friends. Margaret kept quiet, unsure how she could put in any discussion of value. After these important topics were covered, the group chatted amiably about the Ilchester weather, Margaret's new dresses and the differences from country to city.

"It must be quite shocking to come from a place where so little is done into one that is constantly moving and growing." Edith said. She observed Margaret from behind her teacup. Edith had dark brows that tilted inward at the center, giving her an air of a pious but merciless queen. She was darker than Margaret in coloring with dark eyes that were difficult to read.

"Not to mention from a place so beautiful to one so horribly dark and dirty!" Kitty added.

Kitty countered Edith in almost every way and Margaret wondered how they had become friends. Kitty was freckled with an ashen coloring that wasn't quite brown, but more the color of muddy blonde with a hint of gray in her skin and hair. Margaret thought she looked almost like a ghost, devoid of color but for the flamboyant hue of her gown. "Oh you must tell me all about the country. I've often begged to visit but Father will not have it. He says that country gentlemen have forgotten how to be men and that only ladies are content to read all day," Kitty continued.

Jude and Helen gasped at Kitty's rudeness, but Edith joined in suit.

"Yes, do please tell us Miss Wilde. How do the country gentlemen compare with our city men?" She smirked wickedly as Margaret blushed.

"I've not enough knowledge of either to make any judgment," Margaret replied, aiming for a neutral response. It was clear that Edith was baiting her, but she couldn't figure why. She placed her teacup on the side table and folded her hands in her lap, prepared to defend herself.

"Oh? Did you not meet a gentleman on the street the other day? On your way to the book store?" Edith asked with an air of detached civility.

Margaret suddenly realized. Edith Thornton with her sharp features, dark coloring and scowled brow was obviously Mr. Thornton' relation. Sister, she thought. So he'd told Edith of the foolish woman he'd met in the street and now her fears were realized. Margaret suspected that this smudge on her yet-uncultivated reputation in society would mark her forever as foolish and uncivilized. She was found wandering the back alleys for goodness sake! Margaret's already sour mood was not up for such prying - especially from strangers. The weight of her situation with Father felt particularly heavy today, and speaking of home did nothing to lighten it.

A crimson blush crept up Margaret's neck and she was filled with embarrassment. If this contentious woman had already decided that she was foolish, possibly worse, what hope was there of finding friends in Ilchester? Margaret was threatened with sadness for her pride, pity for her cousins and their being saddled with her, and irritated defiance that this strange woman saw fit to judge her upon hearsay from another stranger. As she often did, Margaret chose defiance.

"Why yes, I did. Although I don't remember much of him, being so engrossed as I was on my errand," She replied coolly. "I believe he said his name was Mr. Thornton? Any relation Miss Thornton?"

Edith took the bait. Margaret's pulse quickened, less from her previous embarrassment as from the confrontation she knew was coming.

"Why yes, John is my esteemed brother. He is quite the businessman, owning and mastering the Gerrhardt Brewery and Distillery. Among the best example of a true Ilchester gentleman," Edith replied and glanced to Kitty, who was nodding emphatically.

"Ah I should have known." Margaret smiled prettily and glanced at all in the room with a gesture that directed them to look at Edith. She planned to set an impression that she wasn't one to be made fun of, regardless of her well earned foolishness in the alley. "You and your brother have identical scowls! I must confess after meeting him, I was surely convinced that no one in Ilchester was capable of smiling. I shall take it upon myself to pray that you find some sort of happiness Miss Thornton."

Edith's expression fell and was clouded with an unveiled look of disgust for Margaret. Edith opened her mouth to respond but was immediately interrupted by Kitty's squeals of delight.

"Oh Edith my dear friend," Kitty giggled, tears in her eyes, "I'm afraid Miss Wilde has captured you!" She reached a hand to Edith and squeezed it, ignoring the look of astonishment on Edith's face. "How often I have told you to abandon your serious nature and enjoy life!"

Kitty's laughter fizzled to a small clearing of her throat. "And I'm certain we'd all be pleased if Mr. Thornton did the same." She smiled at Margaret with a sly implication that belied her having defused the situation. Jude and Helen exchanged looks, and Margaret knew she'd avoided the worst of offense.

"I-," Edith began, floundering. Her face showed her mental calculations. Clearly she couldn't attack both Kitty and Miss Wilde. "Well – yes, I suppose lighthearted diversion would do John good," She finished weakly.

Margaret was glad to see Miss Thornton and Miss Price leave. Tea had continued with a strained attitude from Edith and an abundantly excited one from Kitty but there had been no further confrontation. Still, Margaret couldn't help the coal of embarrassment and indignation that weighted her stomach. Clearly the helpful Mr. Thornton had told his sister about the ridiculous and helpless bumpkin that she'd been when they first met. Had he mentioned that she, a lady, was wandering about in an alleyway? How might the rest of society view her after that gossip? Moreover, it was obvious that Ilchester residents had no real idea of the countryside at all. How could Kitty compare a country gentleman to a woman?

Standing alone in her room, Margaret tried to enjoy the silence around her. Still, the scorn that she suffered sought an outlet and her despair needed a distraction. She couldn't argue with Edith within manners. She settled instead for sitting at her writing desk, her mind filled with reasons the countryside was preferable to the city. Not the least of which, she reflected, was the outstanding company of a country gentleman.

Setting her pen to paper she scratched the title of her still forming story.

The Perfect Gentleman