Lady Margaret to Donald Cameron of Lochiel

Powerscourt, County Wicklow, 13 January 1867

Dear Lochiel,

What a lovely surprise it was to receive your letter. While Lord and Lady Powerscourt have been inordinately accommodating, I confess it was a real treat to hear from a familiar face, so to speak. Your mention of his lordship as a connoisseur of all things cervine amused me greatly. Powerscourt is a shrine to his obsession, with deceased deer festooning the walls and the park awash with live ones. If he could dress himself entirely in deer-hide he would, and you will not be surprised to learn that his favourite dinner is venison pie, which we are obliged to have every Saturday.

I can assure you that I am in excellent health and good spirits. You remain as tactful as ever but I, as you know, prefer plain dealing. I refused to marry Killin for many reasons which I will not dwell on. My father refused to accept my decision. As a consequence I was cast out into the wilderness, and for a while, I will admit, was in despair. But despair is such a draining emotion, and remorse can only be sustained while one believes oneself entirely to blame. I regret many things, not least my misguided attempts to bow to my father’s will, but my intentions were always pure. Since the duke will never forgive me, I have decided to forgive myself. What will you make of this confession? I wonder. I am tempted to score it out, but will let it stand. If we are to be correspondents friends, then let us be true and honest ones.

You do not ask me how I occupy myself, but I will tell you, for I think you will approve. I have been helping out at the Enniskerry village school, and at the school for infants, which is nearby, both being largely funded by Lord Powerscourt. His grandfather built the school—not, I hasten to add, with his own hands. I am not an actual teacher, of course, but act as assistant to Mr. and Mrs. Doherty, who are the schoolmaster and -mistress. I do a great deal of wiping of noses and drying of tears. I help those who are a little behind with their arithmetic and their handwriting. Oh yes, and I tell stories, Lochiel—but then you know that! I am writing them down and collating them in a little book. There! You are the first and only person I have dared to trust with that secret. Another in our list of shared confidences. The stories are modest efforts, but the children here like them, and I am informed by Susannah Elmhirst, who tells them to the Lambeth children, that they are popular there, too.

Goodness, how I have run on, and all you wanted to know was whether I was alive and well or not! I hope it will not embarrass you when I tell you that your concern made me shed a little tear. If it pleases you to continue our correspondence, I would be delighted to do so. If my loquacity (isn’t that a wonderful word!) has frightened you off, I will understand. If it has not, I would love to hear some tales of your time on the Continent. Being away from England has made me realise that there is a big world out there. Now I really must stop wittering on!

Yours most sincerely and with very best wishes,

Lady Margaret