A Lot Could Happen In A Week.

I’m Trying To Embroider.” Hyacinth Held Up Her Handiwork As Proof. “you’re Trying To Avoid—” Her Mother Stopped, Blinking. “i Say, Why Does That Flower Have An Ear?” “it’s Not An Ear.” Hyacinth Looked Down. “and It’s Not A Flower.” “wasn’t It A Flower Yesterday?” “i Have A Very Creative Mind,” Hyacinth Ground Out, Giving The Blasted Flower Another Ear. “that,” Violet Said, “has Never Been In Any Doubt.” Hyacinth Looked Down At The Mess On The Fabric. “it’s A Tabby Cat,” She Announced. “i Just Need To Give It A Tail.

Stirlings Of Old Had Been So Damned Besotted With Their Newfound Earldom That They Couldn't Think To Put Any Other Name On Anything...it Was A Wonder He Didn't Drink Kilmartin Tea And Sit On A Kilmartin-style Chair. In Fact, He Probably Would Be Doing Just That If His Grandmother Had Found A Way To Manage It Without Actually Taking The Family Into Trade.

Society Is Capricious And Rewards The Bad As Often As The Good. But It Never Rewards The Quiet.

She Needed Him To Be Him. Even If He Could Not Be Hers.

Love Was The Best Present Of All.