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Mature Content: One would most sincerely hope not! With: Adelaide Chappel and possibly Isiah Chappel, Porter 'Weedy' James and Joshua 'Josh' Chappel Location: Addy's House When: Early August, 1876 Time of Day: Late Morning Mother wasn't really getting any better. She had thrown herself into the regulation two year period of mourning for her dead husband with gusto, and in reverse proportion to the care he had ever shown toward her when he was alive. Anæsthesia found the atmosphere at home stifling, and she found her mother's hysterical sobbing and wailing and her manic attempts to contact the late Richard Orr through her Spiritualist group wearing on her nerves. At last, after many delaying tactics by Mrs Orr, the daughter of the stricken family had been allowed to 'slight the mourning', to lay aside the crape and the veils and adopt a slightly less stiff and frigid form of dress (dark grey and mauve were allowed now, as well as black) and to leave the house: to finally live again. She prayed that the time that had elapsed had not dulled Addy Chappel's desire to learn to read and write; for it had only increased Anæsthesia's ardour to teach her. Still, excited as she was as she approached the door of the neat little house where the female wagoneer lived, she could not quite quell her nerves. Miss Chappel was older than herself, a grown woman with a fiancé and even an adopted son. Who was she? A mere slip of a girl, only a couple of years out of school: closeted and cozened by her over-indulgent parents and knowing little of the real world other than that which she had read in the pages of magazines like The Young Lady, The Woman's Journal and that awful rogue copy of The Truth Seeker that had been delivered by accident. How silly and girlish she must look with her juvenile features and her blonde locks curled beneath her sombre bonnet as she hurried along, gripping hold of the materials she had produced for their first lesson, clutching them in her tastefully gloved hands like a drowning man might grasp desperately to a lifebelt. She closed her eyes, frogs leaping around in her belly, or so it felt, took a deep breath, and knocked upon the door. @Bongo @MD