I would dearly love to visit with you. When will you be returning?

All my love, Claudia

Augusta finished the letter and refolded it slowly. It was surprisingly good to hear from her cousin. Rather pleasant, too, to be told that the prim and proper Claudia actually missed her.

"Augusta, Augusta, where are you?" Meredith flew down the long hall of the gallery waving a large sheet of paper in her hand. "I finished my watercolor. What do you think of it? Aunt Clarissa said I must get your opinion, as it was your suggestion that I take up painting."

"Yes, of course. I am anxious to see it." Augusta looked up at Clarissa, who had accompanied her charge at a more stately pace. "Thank you for allowing her to try her hand at watercolors."

"His lordship informed me I was to be guided by your wishes in this matter, although he and I are agreed that watercolor painting is not a suitably serious pursuit for Meredith."

"Yes, I know, but it can quite fun, Miss Fleming."

"One is expected to apply oneself with diligence to one's studies," Clarissa pointed out. "Not have fun."

Augusta smiled at Meredith, who was shifting her gaze anxiously between the two women, "I am sure Meredith worked very hard on this particular painting because it is quite beautiful, as anyone can see."

"Do you really think so, Augusta?" Meredith hovered eagerly as Augusta examined the work.

Augusta held the child's painting out in front of her and tilted her head to one side to study it. The painting consisted largely of a great deal of pale blue wash. Some interesting slashes of green and yellow were scattered about in an apparently random fashion and in the background was a huge blob of gold.

"Those are trees," Meredith explained, pointing to the green and yellow slashes. "The brush wobbled a great deal and the paint tended to drip."

"They are wonderful trees. And I especially like your sky." Knowing the green and yellow bits were trees made it a safe guess that the wash of blue was sky. "And this is quite interesting," she added, pointing to the blob of gold.

"That's Graystone," Meredith explained proudly.

"Your father?"

"No, no, Augusta, our house."

Augusta chuckled. "I knew that. I was just teasing you. Well, you have done an amazing job on this, Meredith, and if you will allow me, I shall see that it is hung immediately."

Meredith's eyes grew very round. "You are going to hang it? Where?"

"Why, right here in the gallery would be a very suitable place, I believe." Augusta glanced down the row of intimidating portraits. "Perhaps right here beneath the picture of your mother."

Meredith was elated. "Do you think Papa will approve?"

"I am certain he will."

Clarissa cleared her throat. "Lady Graystone, I am not at all certain this is a wise suggestion. This gallery is reserved for family portraits that were painted by renowned artists. It is not the sort of space in which one hangs schoolroom work."

"On the contrary, I think some schoolroom work is just what this gallery needs. It is a rather somber place, is it not? We shall liven it up with Meredith's picture."

Meredith glowed. "Will it be in a frame, Augusta?"

"Most certainly. Every fine picture deserves a frame. I shall see about having someone make us a frame immediately."

Clarissa harrumphed and looked sternly down at her young charge. "Enough of this entertainment. It is time you returned to your studies, young lady. Run along, now. I shall join you in a few minutes."

"Yes, Aunt Clarissa." Eyes still bright with pleasure, Meredith bobbed a curtsy and hurried out of the gallery.

Clarissa turned to Augusta with a severe expression. "Madam, I must talk to you about the nature of the activities you are introducing to Meredith. I realize his lordship is permitting you to take a role in the education of his child, but I cannot help but feel you are pushing her into less than serious pursuits. His lordship has always been most adamant that he does not wish Meredith to grow up to be a silly, shallow female incapable of anything but idle conversation and socializing."

"I understand, Miss Fleming."

"Meredith has been accustomed to a strict course of study. She has done very well with it and I would not like to see that habit altered."

"I take your point, Miss Fleming." Augusta gave the woman a conciliatory smile. The lot of the penniless relative in a household was not a happy one. Clarissa had obviously done her best to create a niche for herself and Augusta sympathized with her. It was not easy to live in someone else's home, as she herself knew all too well. "Meredith has flourished under your capable instruction and I do not seek to change that."

"Thank you, madam."

"I do, however, feel that the child needs a few nonserious activities. Even my Aunt Prudence felt it was important that young people develop the ability to enjoy a variety of improving pastimes. And my cousin Claudia is following in her mothers footsteps. She is writing a book on the subject of useful knowledge for young ladies and she is devoting an entire chapter to the importance of sketching and water-color painting."

Clarissa blinked owlishly. "Your cousin is writing a book for the schoolroom?"

"Why, yes." Augusta suddenly realized where she had seen that look in Clarissa's eyes. It was in the gaze of quite a few members of Pompeia's, especially the ones who spent long hours at the writing tables in the club. Claudia frequently had that expression in her angelic blue eyes. "Oh, I see, Miss Fleming. You had perhaps entertained some notion of writing a book for the edification of young people?"

Surprisingly flustered by the question, Clarissa turned an unbecoming shade of red. "I had given the subject some thought. Not that anything could ever come of it, of course. I am well aware of my limitations."

"Do not say that, Miss Fleming. We do not know our limitations until we test ourselves. Have you written anything on the subject?"

"A few notes," Clarissa mumbled, clearly embarrassed by her own presumption. "I thought of showing them to Graystone, but I fear he would find them quite paltry. His own intellectual abilities are so superior."

Augusta waved that aside. "I would not deny his intelligence, but I am not at all certain he would be a good judge of your efforts. Graystone is writing for a very small audience of academic types. You would be writing for children. Two entirely different groups."

"Yes, there is that, I suppose."

"I have a much better notion. When you have finished preparing a manuscript, bring it to me and I shall give it to my Uncle Thomas, who will send your work off to a publisher."

Clarissa took a deep breath. "Show a manuscript to Sir Thomas Ballinger? The husband of Lady Prudence Ballinger? I could not possibly impose to that extent. He would think me far too forward."

"Nonsense. It will be no imposition whatsoever. Uncle Thomas will be happy to do it. He used to attend to the matter of getting my Aunt Prudence's works published, you see."

"He did?"

"Oh, yes." Augusta smiled confidently, thinking of Sir Thomas's vague approach to the details of daily life. It would be no trick at all to persuade him to put Clarissa's manuscript in the mail to a publisher with a recommendation to print it on the grounds that it followed in Lady Prudence Ballinger's footsteps. Augusta decided she would write the letter of recommendation herself, to save Sir Thomas the trouble.

"That is most kind of you, madam." Clarissa looked and sounded dazed. "I have long been a devoted admirer of Sir Thomas's work. He has such a commendable grasp of history. Such a fine eye for the important detail and nuance. Such a scholarly style of writing. It is truly a pity he never had the inclination to write for the schoolroom. He could have done so much to mold young minds."

Augusta grinned. "I'm not so sure about that. Personally, I've always found my uncle's prose rather dry."

"How can you say that?" Clarissa demanded passionately. "It is not at all dry. It is brilliant. And to think he might look at a manuscript of mine. It is overwhelming."

"Yes, well, as I was about to say, I myself have always felt that the thing that was greatly lacking in books for the schoolroom was a work on famous women in history."

Clarissa looked at her in astonishment. "Famous women, madam?"

"There have been some very brave and noble females in the past, Miss Fleming. Famous queens, for example. And tribes of fierce Amazons. Several rather interesting Greeks and Romans. Even some female monsters. I find the notion of female monsters quite fascinating, don't you, Miss Fleming?"

"I have not given much consideration to the matter of female monsters," Clarissa admitted, looking thoughtful now.

"Only consider," Augusta said, warming to her topic, "how many famous heroes of antiquity have been absolutely terrified of female monsters like Medusa and the Sirens and such. It certainly leads one to believe women might have had a great deal of power in those days, does it not?"

"It is a most interesting notion," Clarissa said slowly.

"Imagine, Miss Fleming. Fully half of the world's history has never been written because it concerns females."

"Good Lord, what a stimulating thought. A whole new field to explore. Do you think Sir Thomas would find it an appropriate area of study?"

"My uncle is a very open-minded man when it comes to intellectual matters. I think he would find a new avenue of historical inquiry highly stimulating. And just think, Clarissa, you could be the one to point it out to him."