My dearest Wolf:

Carter has begun to fuss about the rent. What does he think we are? And why did you run up that bill at Walpole’s? That’s the one kind of luxury which ought always to be paid for in cash. I have refused to pay till the Summer. Better let it be understood that you’re away on a holiday! I think I shall join you at King’s Barton quite soon; in fact, as soon as you can assure me that you’ve discovered a clean, small cottage, with a neat, small garden. I think it will do me good to do a little gardening. How lovely, my dear, it will be to see you again!

Your loving mother,

Ann Haggard Solent.