Saturday, 06 July—Leaving Ufton I left Ufton for Penworth yesterday after I stayed thither for a fortnight. Elinor and her father gave me such greatest farewell before I left after an early breakfast. My journey from Ufton to Penworth with a stagecoach may take longer for its terrain; yet not much shorter than I could expect since I arrived early to Penworth for breakfast. My pusses lined up for my arrival as they kept crying upon me as they begged my arrival. I could remember my dearest felicities upon my blue Bowie and a spotted magpie Peggy, whom my dearest Mother named her after an actress who she met in Bath six years before today. Tuesday, 11 July A fortnight ago after I met Gilbert, he gave me the letter as an invitation for dinner at twilight. He ne’er accepts guests other than me! I shan’t tell dear Mother as I only told Uncle Charles and Mr Montgomery to keep the invitation private from Mother. I began to fret for dear Mother for a discovery of her son going to Astley Manor, a manor owned by Mr Gilbert O’Vile. She ne’er wanted her eldest son to be lost or seen as deceased. I lied to Mother as I told her that I would be staying with Daniel. Alexander did not mind much of me leaving Penworth. Friday, 14 July—A Private Dinner I arrived in Astley for a half-and-three days with Mr Montgomery and Mr Matthews, our coachman. I met Gilbert again as he appeared to be well-mannered unlike our first encounter. We passed to the ante room as he guided me to the library, located beside the dining room. The color of the walls and the floor of the room contrasts the white ceiling. The wall was filled with engraved patterns; and displayed portraits of important and respected figures, and landscapes of Astley. He asked me if I was eligible as Elinor’s husband as I mayn’t be sure with an offer; but a courtship and betrothal must require approval from our parents since we have not reached one-and-twenty yet. I was led to the dining room after some similar civil whiskers. For the dinner was done; a short young fair skinned maid named Pamela guided me to the room where I shall be staying within his commands. It was the room where his poor wife died after birthing a healthy son. It was dark, dreadful, old, and empty since ‘twas never been restored, opposed to the bedroom next to mine where ‘twas filled with bright, colorful patterns, appeared to be recent. The entrance to the room was located near the stairs from the grand hall as I heard Gilbert ordering Mr Matthews and Mr Montgomery to leave Astley as they headed to Penworth. Saturday, 15 July—Touring Astley Gilbert guided me to tour the rooms of Astley. He forbade me to stay in his bedroom unless for important matters as he led me to the morning room. He left thither as he started writing a play; and ordered poor Pamela for this task. Pamela guided me to the drawing room, located next to the grand hall. The drawing room was filled with tapestries that her master reminded of his tour in Rome. We went to the library, again, as we passed to the dark ante room. I followed Pamela to the library as she was searching upon the books from the shelves that have quite smaller amount than Penworth. The books were written by Shakespeare; and others were Gothic. I shifted my focus on portraits of late Lady Amelia O’Vile and her late husband, Sir Edward O’Vile, Bt. Astley was an ancestral house of the Irish O’Vile family, built during the reign of Elizabeth of England. They were Irish Protestants; yet the exceptions are Sir Seamus, his daughters, his brother Gilbert, who converted during his stay in Venice; and Lady O’Vile, Elinor’s Venetian mother; since they are Catholics. Pamela and I went upstairs to tour the gallery. The stairs to the gallery were located near her master’s bedroom. No one had ever been to the gallery except for Gilbert, his own wife, his servants, and sometimes guests. I quite adored the view of the gardens. It felt that Gilbert and his relatives were fairly flushed in the pockets—quite wealthy for a renowned commoner dramatist. Sarah O’Connor, a young maid of Pamela’s age, approached Pamela as their master waited for my presence since breakfast was ready. We rushed as we headed to the grand hall as it was a shortcut to the dining room. Gilbert wasn’t pleased upon my arrival as he raised his blame with a stern voice at poor young Pamela—reminds me of my strict late grandfather Robert. A view from outside, a pale spotted golden owl approached the courtyard. It was calm and gentle till it screeched like a banshee, warning the presence of Margaret Lennox, the pale ghost haunting Astley, whom I saw before my slumber. She was dressed mostly in white as her dark curled hair flowed along the wind, addressing unfortunate omens of the large manor. She disappeared as she strolled away from my sight. Upon my curiosity, I finished breakfast as I searched further for other ghosts—no whither to be seen as Gilbert caught me with strange suspicion as he sent me to the library for civil whiskers. Monday, 17 July—Camilla the Cockatoo Before breakfast, Pamela and Sarah checked the gallery to see Camilla, a fair white cockatoo with pale yellow streaks of feathers behind her. The cockatoo can mimick sounds from the gallery; yet I mayn't be sure if she mimicked strange sounds from a poor ghost. She was a gift from the Marquise de Guerre for Ms Margaret Lennox. Gilbert does not come hither quite often since his beloved cockatoo would annoy him or his guests since there was an incident involving her screeching noises that mimicked church owls that warned his wife's final birth. It led Gilbert to leave her to the gallery unless he commissioned a portrait of himself. Tuesday, 25 July—Away from Penworth A week has passed as I began to fret for poor Mother’s sanity. I had been wondering if she started to worry as I wanted to return to Trinity till coming of age for the grand tour. Gilbert had been reading letters from my dearest Mother, Benjamin, his niece Elinor, and Uncle Charles in the drawing room or in the library. He was reading my diary to suspect entries which disobeyed his commands. He insulted Mother as he ordered me not to yearn for Mother’s return as he called her a mad hysteric. He never wanted any commands to be disobeyed as he wrote a dramatic play for a handsome courtesan he met as he was infatuated with their beauty. I never wondered why he was infatuated with a courtesan, mayhaps, someone who was an easy virtue for him. His behaviour led me to question if his dearest wife Peggy yearned to be returned with her dear sister before their marriage, rumoured to be eloped in Venice since their marriage was ne’er recognised until Peggy turned the age of one-and-twenty.