The End of Wythwood Boulevard

Part XXII - Major Purchases

3rd July, 1830.

The last two weeks had been hectic, to say the least. Simon had finally lost his mind after William had shown up. That's what Elsie and Lenore had decided. Simon Whittock had purchased a house. Though not just any house, no, of course not. It was for Elsie and Lenore, he had said, since they legally could not purchase a property of their own. It was a shock, to say the least.

"Why on Earth have you done this?" Elsie had asked, her question quickly followed by a heavy sigh from Lenore. "Because he's crazy, that's why. Do you have any idea how much of our money you've just spent?"

Lenore came to quickly find out that it had not, in fact, been their money. Simon, being the absolute demon he was, had been saving up piles upon piles of funds specifically for this occasion.. and now he'd really followed through with his plan. It was incredible that he'd done this, really, but in the moment it really hadn't seemed that way.

Elsie had been delighted, of course, though Lenore seemed to have a very different opinion. She seemed almost fearful that this would have some sort of terrible catastrophic effect on.. something. Elsie hadn't really been paying attention. What she did know, though, was that this was the most excited she'd ever been.

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"I mean, I really just can't believe this," Lenore sighed, allowing herself to fall onto the sofa, "He really went out, purchased an entire second home, and then came back and acted as if he hadn't done anything? Absolutely ridiculous!" Elsie laughed, looking over at Lenore. "Well, he was bound to pull something big at some point.. I'm just glad it was this and not some sort of bank heist or something."

Lenore rolled her eyes before covering her face with her hands, absolutely exasperated. "I really just refuse to believe that we now have access to a space of our own. Our own. No Simon, no customers, just you and I." And Lady, Elsie secretly hoped, though she would most likely remain the shop cat for as long as she lived. It was her job, after all.

"I think you're stressing yourself out over nothing." Elsie crossed the room to where Lenore was lying down, before stooping over and yanking her right back up. "What the hell did you do that for?" Lenore snapped, now more annoyed with Elsie than she was with her brother. "You've got paint on your shirt again." Elsie shrugged. She didn't want to ruin the furniture.. especially not now. Her reasoning only received a dissatisfied look from Lenore before the girl retreated into her bedroom, most likely to get a fresh tunic.

Elsie, in the meantime, decided to head back downstairs.

The paper had arrived.

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And so I implore you, my fellow gentlemen, to follow my lead. Only select wives of noble families, ones that you know have been properly trained in the great art of homemaking. Any other selection would be a grace mistake, I'm afraid to say.

I must say the same about education as homemaking. In my humble opinion, the more a woman is educated, the more ridiculous ideas she'll begin to have. Then, you've got yourself into quite a bit of trouble. You wouldn't want to be questioned in your own home, would you? I thought not.

Just remember, my dear gentlemen, that it is not the wishes of the woman that matter. No, never. It is your needs that must always come first.

[Mr. Benedict Clarke.]

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My God, he'd done it again.

Elsie threw down the paper in shock, then watched as Simon picked it up to read the same passage she had just been looking at before he also launched it. "What a bunch of nonsense," He said, "That's one hell of a father you've got there, Elsie," he grimaced, a disgusted expression crossing his face.

Elsie scoffed, obviously offended. She hated this man now. Her father was horrible, she'd decided, and she didn't want to hear a thing about him or his ridiculous publishings. They were completely insulting, and she felt as if the world would be better off if he had never even had the idea to begin working for the Boston paper at all. Really, how could anyone print this? He must've paid someone to do it, she thought, there's no way any member of the press would put out these kinds of things without any sort of bribery.. right?

God, she hoped not. If she was wrong, though.. someone at that facility definitely needed to be fired. She had no doubt. I swear, she thought, if I see one more of these I'll just take a trip to Boston myself to figure out what exactly has gotten into this man.

And that was the last time that Ms. Elsie Clarke was allowed access to the Boston newspaper.

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"Honestly," Elsie said at dinner the following evening, "How could he do such a thing!?" This remark was promptly followed by the Clarke girl slamming her silverware back down onto the table, clearly not currently able to control her emotions. "Careful, dear," Lenore had said. Dear? God, it made Elsie stop immediately, taking a moment to collect herself and throw something from her plate at Simon, who was no doubt making one of his horrendously obnoxious faces at what Lenore had said.

Though, after a long debate, the trio came to the conclusion that Elsie's father was no doubt a terrible man, and they wanted nothing to do with him. In all honesty, Elsie most definitely could've come to that conclusion on her own.. but she would have to admit, it was rather nice having other people agree with her. That man was terrible. Suddenly, Elsie was horrified by the fact that she shared his last name. It was terrible.

She'd put the matter to rest, though, at least in the premises of general conversation. Her mind continued racing, of course.. she needed to find out the reasoning behind this nonsense. She did know one thing, though.

This was going to be a long night.