From the journal of The Lady Eileen
As the Bards of Charterhouse put it, Ripples Never come Back. A day comes when you look in the mirror and the face that looks back is not the young girl it was previously. The coming of age is more pressing on a woman than on a man - especially, in Hardy's Wessex, once you've passed thirty. The age where you start sitting with your back to the window to ensure, in a certain light, that you at least pass for "interesting".Or, to look at it another way, the hair dye I packed back in April has run out. I've started using the 19th Century's equivalents, but I've a nagging feeling there's probably something fairly hideous in them. Still, if I hang on till the autumn I'll maybe be able to do something more organic with horse chestnuts? I'll have to ask around where I can purchase some chemistry equipment.