Harp's Manor

INSTALLMENT XVI

June 23, 1928

Hoorah! A cheer for women everywhere. June 17, 1928, a date that shall be remembered! No longer are men the only ones who have wings. A cheer for Amelia Earhart, the first woman to fly across the Atlantic! I express my sincere admiration for Miss Earhart. She represents the pioneering woman: brave, bold, and ready to get things done. It does not matter that she was a passenger; I trust that Miss Earhart will soon take the wheel of her own plane and show those men how it's done!

The events at Harp's Manor, on the other hand, have been less monumental. The Ladies of the Torch went through with their threat and clogged the place up. I have been unable to get the smoky smell out of my room, and they didn't even go in it! It's rather hard to breathe here now. I'm no close friend of Mr. Stephenson, but how I pity him. He wasn't lying when he told them that incense triggers his asthma. Whenever he is required to exit his room, he coughs and chokes as if the place is filled with poisonous gas. We had to air out the dining hall for his sake; otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to enter it.

Mr. Lambert is no fan of the action, either. "My God, ladies!" he remarked as he bumped into them during their cleaning session. "Save that for the church. It's stuffy in here as it is; don't make me pull out my gas mask."

Miss Hansen's reaction, however, was by far the most amusing. She arrived at dinner late, in a towering temper. "WHAT," she snarled, "IS THAT SMELL?"

"Incense," Mrs. Maxwell sniffed. "It is the faithful rising to heaven, and the purification and banishment of sin. The ladies and I believed it was in order."

"Do you know how many bottles of perfume I have emptied out to quell this nauseating stench?" Miss Hansen exclaimed. Indeed, she did smell like every flower ever picked rolled into one. "It is not fit for a lady to be degraded to such an embarrassing situation! I demand you clear the place out at once or I shall stay here no longer."

Over by the door, I thought I saw the butler break out into a sweat at these words. "Is that really the best leverage you have?" Miss Jacobs scoffed. "Leave already, then."

"I refuse to allow the aroma of the Lord be disparaged in this manner!" Mrs. Maxwell said, standing. "Miss Hansen, repent now or face the wrath of God for your insolence!"

"I think you should be more concerned about my wrath, you pompous swine!" Miss Hansen shrieked, her voice rising with fury.

"I'm actually with Hansen on this one!" Griffiths chimed in. "This place stinks!" Mr. Weaver shot him a glare, and he went silent.

"Miss Hansen! Why, I've never met a woman more stubbornly set against satisfying the will of the Lord than you! You should be ashamed of yourself."

Miss Hansen, her face glowing red, spat at Mrs. Maxwell's feet. "Your odious repugnance is worthy of insulting no lady, much less I!"

She started forward; Marsh and Lambert leapt from their chairs at the same time. "Miss Hansen, control yourself!" Mr. Lambert shouted.

Miss Hansen paused; then, with a fiery swish of her cloak, turned around and vanished out the door to the dining hall, nearly knocking over the fearful butler.

"I'll get her," Marsh said, and set off after her. Before he left, he added, "Don't stop on account of us."

I watched him go with some dismay. Why was it that Marsh was always the one to calm Miss Hansen down whenever she was in a frenzy? Did they have some sort of relationship between themselves that I did not know about? Otherwise, why would he always follow her?

I checked myself. Surely I wasn't jealous. It was embarrassing to watch Miss Hansen storm off like that all the time. I'd be mortified if that was me. Except, I wouldn't mind Marsh following me around.