February 11th, 1763, night

Still, I´m in my room sitting over an empty sheet of paper.
My mother came up five times to check on my progress, every time getting more and more frustrated not to see a word on the page before me. Mrs. P. came and scolded me, whereas I literally threw her out on her ears.*
I wasn´t allowed to come down to dinner, unless I had finished the letter. How old am I? Twelve? I know, I´m not yet of age, but still, I´m not a little child - I might behave like one as to their lack of understanding - but all my sisters and also Jeremiah chose their spouses freely. I do not comprehend that there should be a scandal of me losing a fiancé, no matter how, and not marrying his brother, for God´s sake!



* In the north of England we get thrown out on our ears!