Leavitt Stafford and the Awful, Terrible, Not Very Nice Plan.

Chapter the Fifth: Of Women and Dresses

Leavitt, under the guise of the objects of his purchases being intended for a lover of his, had some days ago purchased a brown wig and some makeup, and he had hidden them within his coat so that Marjorie would not suspect his wicked intentions. Afterwards, he had placed the makeup and wigs underneath the floorboards in his bedroom, which Marjorie was forbidden to enter, and which contained gargantuan piles of tomes containing substantial pages delineating the nature of human anatomy and the nature in which man had built his settlements upon.

Today, before he was required to work, he made his way towards the household of Magnolia and Montague, though his heart thundered in his breast. This would be particularly difficult as there were many orphan children within the household who may romp about and create pandemonium upstairs. Additionally, Montague possessed an intuition which bore a startling accuracy, and Leavitt suspected that he may fall under the mysterious scrutiny of this intuition as soon as Magnolia became aware of the disappearance of the dress.

The household possessed a beautiful appearance with the sandstone from which it was built, though it also appeared somewhat foreboding, as the windows which peered out onto the streets were arched harshly and the turrets which protruded from the roof, the roof with which was adorned with cast iron gables, were crowned with finials which could quite easily stab a man in the heart. Though the house was certainly a handsome and elegant structure, it also appeared to convey unspoken evils. Montague had designed the house himself, and he held a powerful, though unspoken, pride with regard to this particular work of architecture.

The atmosphere of the building existed in sharp contrast to the impeccable garden which Magnolia regularly tended to, in which there were divers shrubs, delicate in appearance, which had endured the harshness of the snow that had so mercilessly bruised the manifold plants of the other gardens. The shrubs cast their tender fingers upon the cobbled pathway, and the pine trees before the garden watched over it warmly, casting goodwill upon any visitors. Within the garden, three of the orphaned children whom Magnolia had adopted frolicked, and they were named Winnie, Polly, and Hazel. Magnolia was seated upon a wooden bench beside the path, smiling at the joy of the children.

"Hello, Leavitt!" Magnolia chirped, and she immediately rose from her seat in order to embrace him. "How are you on this wonderful day?"

"I am feeling most sanguine today," Leavitt declared with a false beam.

"Is it not wonderful that the rain has stopped for one day? It really does become rather glum after a while..."

"I'm afraid I must disagree. Although it is rather melancholy, I find the rain quite beautiful."

Magnolia did not understand such a sentiment. Her husband possessed the same sentiment, and she found it very baffling indeed, for the rain would bring a terrible sadness upon her. Whilst it rained, she could not tend to her garden without becoming soaked, and Montague would infuriate her by having the impudence to claim that it was for the better that it rained, for he could do more architecture rather than be forced into the sun, which he most certainly required, for he did not speak to people as much as he most certainly should, and he needed to join her frolics with her friends in order to gain such socialisation. As one would say today, she really rather wished for him to touch grass.

"Come in, dear," said Magnolia cordially as she accompanied Leavitt towards the house. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yes, please," accepted Leavitt with a smile. "I could kill for a cup of tea at the moment."

"I understand that feeling very well indeed. Please take a seat and your tea shall be prepared in a m—MONTAGUE, WHAT THE DEVIL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"Caring for the baby, of course." Montague stood within the living room, holding the infant by the ankle, and the infant was wailing in excruciation. He directed a penetrating stare at Leavitt. "Hello, Leavitt."