She took upon herself the responsibilities of yore, aiding me in my movements and the completion of the simplest of tasks. Yet beyond these, she was ensconced within her own enchanted sphere. This did not come as a revelation to me, for I had previously observed her in such a state.
On this very day, the wheels of change began to turn this afternoon, when my dear sister was delivered a telegram, addressed solely to her. With great urgency, she beckoned me forth. I quickly made my way to secure a place beside her at the dining table. She then proffered the telegram, counselling me to unveil its contents. I looked and declared, "It is from Charles Henderson, Mara!" I returned the missive to her, and she commenced to peruse its contents quietly before reciting them aloud to me. It bore the following;
Dear Miss Coleman,
Firstly, I extend my heartfelt gratitude on behalf of myself and the kin of dear Sam for your most thoughtful expressions and the forbearance you have exhibited during this most trying period. Moreover, it is with great pleasure I proclaim that, through Phillip's assistance, the gallery's doors have once again opened. Though the shattered glass has been concealed behind sturdy boards of wood, this has not dissuaded our esteemed visitors from gracing us with their presence.
In tribute to my dearly departed husband, I wish to set aside the pall of mourning and cordially invite you to aid us and proceed with the arrangements that were previously laid before us. He would be utterly delighted to witness the artworks returning to their rightful condition and place.
Might you be available between tomorrow and the Saturday of the following week? Sunday cannot be partook, as that is when the gallery and market is closed to the public.
Should this not suit your convenience, I beseech you to respond with a more fitting date. Yet, if you can attend, I entreat you to arrive at the same hour as before for the utmost likelihood of navigating through the hubbub.
We eagerly anticipate the upcoming of your presence.
With regards,
Mr Charles Henderson nee Miller
The missive in her possession enchanted her eyes with a beautiful radiance, prompting her to hasten forth from the chamber towards the staircase. I adjusted my grasp upon the wheels, guiding myself to the brink of the stairs. "Wait!" I exclaimed. "Do you intend to leave? Who shall care for me in Elizabeth's absence?"
I allowed a torrent of inquiries to escape my lips. After a brief interlude, she raised her hand to halt my impassioned discourse. "Regrettably, the sole recourse remaining is to summon Aunt Whitney. She must assume responsibility for your care, Michael."
Aunt Whitney, my departed mother's sister, is a most disagreeable creature, whose sole pursuits seem to be lamentation and instilling dread wherever she treads. Yet, as per the account of Uncle Hugo, whom she hath now cast aside, she was not always thus. Her hair, a light chestnut, is most untamed, resembling a bird's nest, and she bears an unsightly green wart upon her nose. She comforts in wearing oversized garments from the men's quarter, presenting the appearance of donning a frock. Beneath such attire, she opts for shorts that are either excessively high or woefully too big for her waist.
"Any other individual would be most agreeable, dear Mara. But not her!" Mara ascended the stairs with haste to her chamber whilst I continued my fervent discourse. "Do not permit her within my presence, sister!" I projected my voice to such a pitch that, despite her retreat, she might still discern my words.
Fortuitously, my appeal came to her senses, for she retorted with a statement most candid. "It is either she or the peculiar Mr. Noggins residing opposite." A sigh escaped my lips as I came to the disheartening realization that I could not triumph over her in this verbal exchange.
"You make a fair point, " I conceded softly. Forthwith, the sound of her footsteps returned, echoing down the staircase.
I beheld her once more, this time with a playful twinkle in her eye. "I did not quite catch that," she jested, playfully cupping her ear with her left hand.
"Cease your antics and prepare for your departure," I called amidst intervals of laughter. Whereupon Mara resumed her ascension, joining in the laughter whilst bounding back to her private quarters.
In the meantime, I set about to mentally brace myself for the duration which Mara deemed fit to render her conspicuous absence.