Room 312: Wednesday Evening
Jan. 13th, 2021 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notfinishedyetSince returning from London, what time Enola hadn't spent in class was spent in her room reading the journals of Lady Cecily.
As she expected, they were not the typical journals of a sixteen year old girl of Enola's era or from a baronet's daughter. There was nothing about Sunday rides in Hyde Park, holidays at the seaside or the latest fashions of the millinery. There was also not a single entry which involve any kind of romantic interest. Most of the entries were troubled musings regarding the state of the people of East End and the poverty stricken children whose parents could not support even though they endless workdays and barely a penny to show for it.
The descriptions of what she saw on the East End were not just stories but first hand accounts. Coupled with the charcoal drawings there was no doubt in Enola's mind that Lady Cecily had walked among London's poor.
The question of course: Was how? She was no doubt tutored and had a governess. Possibly even went to that dreadful finishing school Enola had attended oh so briefly. Lady Cecily would have never walked alone in such streets without garnering some attention. Clearly she had to have gone with someone or was in some sort of disguise.
One by one Enola stuck each of Lady Cecily's charcoal drawings on the wall of her side of the room. When they were all up there, Enola sat down and studied them all.
Two things were readily apparent to her. The first was that Lady Cecily was motivated by the rights of the poor and lower classes. And if that was the case, Enola knew of one person back home who might be of assistance.
The other item, which might not seem important to the people of this era, is that the charcoal drawings and the journals were very different than what Enola had seen before. It took a bit longer for her to figure out that the reason was that Lady Cecily was left handed. The lettering in the journals, the slight smear of ink and the way that the drawings were done with the charcoal all had those indications.
And for someone of the aristocracy, that certainly wouldn't do. Those types of inclinations would have been "trained" out of her. Enola had heard stories of such practices in Mrs. Harrison's finishing school. One girl had her left hand tied behind her back in order to learn the "proper" way of learning her letters. And anytime in her schooling where she had inadvertently used her left hand, she no doubt had her knuckles rapped or worse her left palm beaten with a strap.
More and more, Enola began to wonder just exactly who this Lady Cecily was. Because she was nothing like what she appeared to be on the surface.
Finally done with reviewing her case, Enola sat down and pulled out her own drawing set to help her relax.
And spent the rest of the evening sketching out sights she had seen in the last few days.
[Open but with SP warning.]
As she expected, they were not the typical journals of a sixteen year old girl of Enola's era or from a baronet's daughter. There was nothing about Sunday rides in Hyde Park, holidays at the seaside or the latest fashions of the millinery. There was also not a single entry which involve any kind of romantic interest. Most of the entries were troubled musings regarding the state of the people of East End and the poverty stricken children whose parents could not support even though they endless workdays and barely a penny to show for it.
The descriptions of what she saw on the East End were not just stories but first hand accounts. Coupled with the charcoal drawings there was no doubt in Enola's mind that Lady Cecily had walked among London's poor.
The question of course: Was how? She was no doubt tutored and had a governess. Possibly even went to that dreadful finishing school Enola had attended oh so briefly. Lady Cecily would have never walked alone in such streets without garnering some attention. Clearly she had to have gone with someone or was in some sort of disguise.
One by one Enola stuck each of Lady Cecily's charcoal drawings on the wall of her side of the room. When they were all up there, Enola sat down and studied them all.
Two things were readily apparent to her. The first was that Lady Cecily was motivated by the rights of the poor and lower classes. And if that was the case, Enola knew of one person back home who might be of assistance.
The other item, which might not seem important to the people of this era, is that the charcoal drawings and the journals were very different than what Enola had seen before. It took a bit longer for her to figure out that the reason was that Lady Cecily was left handed. The lettering in the journals, the slight smear of ink and the way that the drawings were done with the charcoal all had those indications.
And for someone of the aristocracy, that certainly wouldn't do. Those types of inclinations would have been "trained" out of her. Enola had heard stories of such practices in Mrs. Harrison's finishing school. One girl had her left hand tied behind her back in order to learn the "proper" way of learning her letters. And anytime in her schooling where she had inadvertently used her left hand, she no doubt had her knuckles rapped or worse her left palm beaten with a strap.
More and more, Enola began to wonder just exactly who this Lady Cecily was. Because she was nothing like what she appeared to be on the surface.
Finally done with reviewing her case, Enola sat down and pulled out her own drawing set to help her relax.
And spent the rest of the evening sketching out sights she had seen in the last few days.
[Open but with SP warning.]
