Cora walked along the path, the new bonnet in her hand. While the family was entertaining the vicar and his family, she opted to venture out here. Her face was turned up to the sky, her flushed cheeks becoming. She wanted to loosened her raven dark so that it tumbled down her back but that won’t do for a young lady. Sometimes she envied her little sister, Della who could wear her thick auburn hair down.
She hitched up her skirt and ran the rest of the way, leaning against the stone when she reached the top. What a glorious day, she thought spreading her arms wide like a bird. Up here she felt free–free from convention. She disliked sitting in the parlor, drinking tea and listening to boring conversations. Most of the time, her body was there but her mind was here.
Besides, she was tired of being asked the same insidious questions. “Are there no young men who have won your affections?” or “What about Henry Taylor? He’s a very amiable young man with a very handsome fortune. You wouldn’t want of anything, my Dear.”
Continue reading at Notes to Women


























