A societal bulletin to seek counsel on delicate matters of decorum and propriety. Fellow peers band together to voice their judgments on the virtue or lack thereof of the enquirer, they ultimately determine the possibility of a return to impeccable decorum, distinguishing between the innocent and the scoundrel.
My dear companion and I have been romantically entwined for approximately one year. She is acquainted with a number of gentlemen, and I am not one to believe that men and women are incapable of maintaining amicable relations. However, with two of these fellows, it is patently evident that they harbour desires exceeding mere friendship. Their intentions are so transparent that I find it baffling that my beloved fails to perceive them.
Read the full letter from Mr. Henry Woodford.
My husband’s family is rather partial to the pleasures of imbibing, and it is not uncommon for their holiday gatherings to feature a generous assortment of wines and libations. I, on the other hand, harbour a vehement aversion to the consumption of alcohol, a sentiment rooted in the unfortunate experience of having been raised under the shadow of a father plagued by intemperance. I firmly believe that it is a mark of juvenile sensibilities to rely upon such indulgences for the purposes of merriment.
Read the full letter from Mrs. Caroline Sinclair.
Am I the scoundrel for desiring recompense from my sister, as my nephew misplaced my fine horse? In the previous year, I procured an fine steed, which I have purchased a new saddle for. The cost of this fine horse was far from trivial, amounting to £5, with the saddle raising its value further.
Read the full letter from Mr. Frederick Baxter.
It was a fine day when my sister-in-law, whom I shall refer to as “Lydia” for the sake of discretion, arrived in town for one of her customary visits. Though a lady, she possessed the propensity to behave in a manner most unbecoming, particularly when it came to matters of finance.
Read the full letter from Mrs. Harriet Woodford.
Permit me to employ a pseudonym, as my paramour is oft found perusing these pages. I find myself in the midst of the most preposterous disagreement with a gentleman of supposed maturity.
Read the full letter from Miss Louisa Montgomery.