It would appear that the approach of spring has inspired a bit of spring cleaning. Mrs. Strange may be seen throughout the morning, carrying seemingly larger and larger stacks of books out of her room and back into the library.

She looks tired, perhaps due to the great stacks of books, but cheerful enough. And, as ever, she would welcome

When Mrs Strange was a child, there were apple trees near her home. She has very distinct memories of climbing them when she was small and retrieving the apples-- now, as a grown woman with, she certainly hopes, some degree of dignity, that seems a bit excessive. But the little patch of apple trees seem to have done quite well, and Mrs Strange ( Read more... )

Mrs Strange, perhaps unusually, has come to the library. While it cannot be said that the library has any sort of organization, necessary, she has found a section that seems largely to be comprised of novels and poetry she recognizes from her home time and country, and is browsing it with a casual interest.

Since she signed up with Kay, Mrs Strange has spent a fair portion of her time in the kitchen. This seems to be one such portion, as she is bent over the sink, working at washing the dishes left over from the last meal. With the sun and the work, she's lately looked much more the country girl than the society lady, an effect that is only enhanced ( Read more... )

It is a bright, clear day, and Mrs Strange is looking for something in the garden. Or at least, that is what her steady, purposeful pace down the path and only cursory glances at the flowers themselves would seem to suggest. There is no urgency in her walk, and her brief inspection of each flower bed is thoughtful rather than searching. Mrs Strange ( Read more... )

Mrs Strange, after leaving the room in which she woke with Richard, had started heading back towards her own. On the way, however, she paused in a little side hall and began, quite suddenly, to cry. Arabella is, by no means, a weeping type of woman, but she is fairly certain about what happened, though she can't remember it, and once she's started ( Read more... )

There's a little back porch of the mansion-- who knows if it has always been there, for who can ever tell with the mansion?-- where Mrs Strange is standing in a pool of the last of the day's sunlight, her shawl pulled tight around her shoulders. She looks as if she had been ill. But she's feeling more herself than she has since she saw the ( Read more... )

( Dolls! :D )

Arabella is moving through the hall, slowly, carefully, as it is still so dark and she could not find a candle. There is a certain gentleman she would like very much to find-- and would also like very much to avoid. As she knows she will never find him if he does not wish to be found, the choice is largely up to him. Should she run across anyone ( Read more... )

Less being made of Christmas in her time than in many others, Mrs Strange is quite content for most of the day to go about as she usually does. But time with one's friends and family is tradition still and, lacking the latter, she goes in search of the former, to offer Christmas wishes, if nothing else.