The Sounding Board

[Ophelia Dippet]

9 November 1887

My Dearest Porphyria,

Beijing has been too wonderful for words, and so I won't try to write it down. I do, however, have a very funny story for you when I return regarding a spice merchant and one of my traveling companions and the foibles of language barriers - do remind me for I'm certain so much will happen in the meantime that I will almost certainly forget to tell you.

I've been terribly distracted recently by thinking of things back at home, however. I know you aren't particularly one for ladies' clubs but that's exactly the reason I thought you would be the best person to write to in describing the difficulty I'm in. I had to resign my membership at Rose & Thistle recently because they take, it appears, very little care in discerning whether their members. At the rate they were going it might have turned into a club for the basest rabble, like that party you told me about back in spring where they had women of openly loose morals cavorting around pretending to be proper ladies, and obviously I can't be involved with something like that!

I will miss the chance at society, however, should there not be another suitable club. I'm not eligible for The Lady Morgana and the Daughters of Demeter are simply so gauche. I wish there was some other way to keep my social calendar from going into hibernation as soon as the season ends. It seems so terribly unjust that in order to keep a good reputation I should be forced to sit around idly with my thumbs twiddling for the entire winter! Why can't women go and do the sorts of things men do together and have riding parties and political luncheons and things? Not that I have any particular interest in politics but at least it would be an excuse to do something.

I've been turning this problem over in my mind and I think it's one that needs a solution, but I'm not sure whether I have the social capital to solve it. I wish there was a ladies' club that focused less on tea and more on interesting things, to keep the periods between the season from becoming tedious. (I would think that if such a thing existed perhaps even you might be interested in it, though of course I understand why you've never expressed an interest in the Rose & Thistle before; for someone like you I can't imagine you'd be able to manage it without finding it abysmally boring).

I don't really know what I'm asking, anymore; at this point I suppose I'm merely complaining. Hopefully by the time I'm back in England I'll be in decidedly better spirits - and perhaps by then I'll have solved my dilemma with the ladies' club.

Yours,

Ophelia

@'Porphyria Dempsey' @'Elias Grimstone'

  

[Porphyria Dempsey]

12th November 1887

Dear Ophelia,

I do hope this letter makes it to you without incident, as I can't recall where on your trip you will be when it does, though I suspect you'll be beyond Beijing already; but the owl did seem to know where to go, so.

I'm sure you've been experiencing all manner of fantastic things and I am eagerly awaiting getting to hear as many stories as I can pester out of you when you return. I hope your travelling companions aren't proving a disappointment, either, but I must really reproach you on deliberating such things as your English social life whilst you are off having an adventure!

I expect getting to write about it might at least serve to put your mind at ease enough that you can stop brooding on it for the rest of your holiday - that is the only reason I'm entertaining the topic at all, I'll have you know.

Quite right, I have never been one for ladies' clubs, but from your point of view, I suppose if the other members aren't people you can or care to get along with, then the whole notion of the club itself is redundant. I don't expect there is much else to do there if one doesn't like the people except glare over one's teacup and hope someone notices. (I, of course, would be more than happy to burn the place down, but I feel as though that may not solve your dilemma.)

Any sort of ladies' club would pale beside the sort of thing you're talking about that men are at perfectly liberty to do, where you are able to actually do things. Not that women don't partake in hunting and shooting season perfectly well, but that is obviously a country thing and not something one can do all year round or exceptionally well in a tearoom. And indeed, the very thought of "charitable knitting events" or whatever else you could do in a tearoom are sending me right to sleep. On the other hand, the things you seem to be talking about - riding or walking parties, political luncheons (and what about lectures with an interesting speaker or two! the theatre! or real excursions!) - sound like a better way to keep your social calendar alive without a tearoom at all. Surely you don't need the Rose & Thistle to begin with? I am sure you must have enough friends flitting about around you these days to have enough company outside the season. Can't you just bully some of them into organising these things outside of the ladies' club?  
 
I rather wish this letter weren't ending on the note of ladies' clubs, but I am certain you'll find a solution to the issue, and then perhaps you shan't have to mull over it constantly for the rest of your trip. I confess I am sorry not to have been

of more help,
Porphyria

  

[Ophelia Dippet]

       

15 November 1887

My Dearest Porphyria,

Your letter delighted me! I was sent into a fit of giggles at the idea of you burning down Rose & Thistle, though of course I know you couldn't have been serious. I do think you're right about being able to do these sorts of things with some of my existing friends, and that was more or less the idea that I came to on my own (you will be glad to hear that I am not 'brooding'!)

I should like very much to add theatre trips to the list of things we do outside the social season, and I promise to invite you to anything interesting (no knitting events, never fear). What sorts of interesting guests did you have in mind? I'm sure we could wrangle up a novelist or two; was that the sort of thing you were thinking of?

Yours,

Ophelia