Free Too Soon for Flowers by Margaret Miles

long!
    The Inoculation itself was painless. I was able to avoid the Fearful Blade by inhaling a powder which promises to give small trouble for the desired Effect. My Brother has
finally
done something to benefit someone, and made the thing far easier than I had imagined. Let us Pray I will have no great story to tell, when I see you! But a boy called Lem, who lives with Mrs. Willett, had the Thread in the usual way, so perhaps I will see something Exciting, after all.
    We have now added a Third Guest to our little party—Phoebe Morris, who will marry a local swain before the Summer is through. The girl comes from Concord and so she can hardly be Stylish, but she is an admirable Sketcher, and has a quiet humility I find refreshing. Phoebe has shown me some of her Work done in Crayon; this is remarkably Good. She plans to begin in Watercolors soon, and I may act as her guide. (You’ll recall I have had informal lessons from one or two Gentlemen.) While we are here, Phoebe will attempt several Portraits, and I, of course, shall be her Subject. I am sure they will be well received when I return; so you see, you need not Worry that I have nothing of importance to do. Miss Morris is hardly John Copley—but since that young man is now too Occupied even to stop and drink Tea (while I as yet have no Fortune with which to tempt him to paint me), Miss Morris will have to do!
    Here is a Peculiar Thing. You know DavidPelham, of course, who wed Alicia Farnsworth, and then went to England or somewhere, after she died? Well, Lucy, he is Here! Yesterday, he approached our Table before we dined to beg a Word. Pelham is the Last person I expected to see in a backwater place like Bracebridge. Naturally, he seemed very Pleased to see me, but, since I do not believe I will be Allowed to see anyone other than my fellow sufferers, and Richard and Charlotte, until this is over, I don’t suppose Anything will come of it. A pity, since he seems more Cheerful than he once was, and of course he is far more Wealthy, which probably explains it! I have noticed him Admiring me in town once or twice since his return. Mr. Pelham, it appears, also knows my Physician. This is an old Virginian named Tucker, found by my Brother Lord knows where—at least, I have never heard of him, though he Claims to have lived in Boston these three years! It all makes for a situation I find rather Strange. Still, Dr. Tucker is not an Ill-Spoken man—and his acquaintance with Mr. Pelham gives one some Hope for him, I expect, Socially.
    But oh, this place makes me feel Cross, for there is so little to Do! Nothing happens at night; there are few Carriages, no Bells to speak of, not even a Hawker out in the street, for there is no street, only a Dusty Road. I wonder how I shall Sleep. What I would not give for a Twilight Walk about the Common, arm in arm with a Gentleman (or even you, Lucy), on our way to a Distinguished house, and a flippant Evening of Cards.
    Enough, for Tonight. I hear Phoebe’s Romeo (or perhaps Titania’s ass) come to the Window below, which opens on Miss Morris’s chamber. Iwill quickly shut my own to keep
these
delicate ears from Burning in the Rising Flames of Young Love! And so,
    Adieu—
Diana
    After she lowered the window, Diana folded and sealed the page, and added an address to the outside. Then she resumed her place in bed, this time between soft sheets. While enjoying the clean scent of lavender, she picked up her book, considered her own life for another moment, and finally abandoned herself to the Bard’s immortal words.
    Some in Bracebridge that night went to bed to sleep, praying they would not dream. But Diana longed for dreams to come, dreams of someone she knew not. Anything, as Miss Longfellow so often sighed, for variety.
    * Though smallpox is currently said to exist only in laboratories, a cure for it has yet to be found.

Chapter 5

    Wednesday
    T HE NEXT MORNING , Longfellow and Cicero stood in the glass house built onto the side