Miss Spinster,

I am not wholly certain how one responds to advertisements such as your own. It is, in fact, not something I would have seen had I not confiscated the latest edition of Witch Weekly and perused it for a bit of a lark. Though I confess that the bulk of the volume I could not take seriously, the page from your own story that I read struck something of a chord in me and, after some pondering, I have concluded that there is surely nothing to lose in contacting you.

For myself, I have survived multiple wives, a fact that leaves my eldest daughters—both out of school, but neither within sight of a match of their own—without a more feminine role model than I might provide for them. I have always encouraged both to pursue their passions, but I wish also for them to be happy in life; while I should not dare voice as much to them, I worry that ignoring the typical duties of their sex will be something that they may come to regret in their later years.

I am a man of distinguished years who makes a comfortable living, and my profession dictates I spend the bulk of the year elsewhere. I am not fond of entertaining any but close friends or family, and as mentioned, have daughters who have worked alongside me this past half-decade to shore up much of my deficit in that regard. Such limited social engagements would not be a burden upon any who would join my household. I have two small dogs who are my greatest weakness after my children, and hold a deep appreciation for fine tobacco and a good scotch.

Were I to remarry, it would be to a kind-hearted woman who could care for my children, if not as a mother, than at least as an elder sister might. The youngest of my brood is already attending Hogwarts, but all are dear children in want of a more maternal influence in their lives. An interest in chess would be an asset, but not at all a necessity.

Yours sincerely,
   

Dear H,
I must apologize on behalf of whomever submitted the advertisement to Witch Weekly as it was certainly not me and I'm afraid you have been unkindly lead astray by it.

While the fundamentals of the ad were mostly correct, there were embellishments, exaggerations, and a few liberties taken that I hope are not reflective of the truth. It is true I have had misfortune in love and now expect I shall never wed, but I have romantic inclinations and wish very much for companionship and a happy marriage.

As for the social expectations of a wife in society, I would not decorate myself as the next Mrs. Pendergast, but I believe I am quite capable of meeting expectations, contrary to what the ad you have read suggests. I am a little reserved at times and not fond of cruel gossip, but I am amiable and respectful of expectation.

On the matter of children, I should be very happy as a step-mother but only to children who are ready for one; I think it very hard for children who have still recently lost their mother to consider another and I never wish to come between a father and his children.

I hope you have not placed a great deal of hope or wasted too much time on the ad and I wish you the best in wherever the future takes you, sir.

Miss Ventus,
I'm afraid there has been some sort of mix up as I did not submit a Lonely Heart to your magazine and this really has nothing to do with me. It must be for some other young lady and if not, it has at least been authored by some other personage.

Needless to say, I should not like a repeat printing of it.

Miss L,

I found true passion in my first marriage and dear companionship in all subsequent. Romantic love is most assuredly ideal, but blissful happiness can be found even in its absence. If you take nothing else away from this interlude, I encourage you to remember that in going forward, or else you risk indeed a very lonely life. I would not have any but the eldest of my children had I sought in a second wife what I had found in the first, a fact that I, as a father, cannot fathom.

I have placed no undue hope in our immediate nuptials, rest assured of that, nor have I considered this a waste of time. At this point in my life I look only for a companion, even if that is simply a companion in the writing of letters. You do me wrong, though, to suggest that I might think of myself above my children—for it is truly only a selfish man who would remarry before his children were ready to accept such a drastic change. Any man who claims to be acting in the best interests of his children in that regard while blatantly disregarding their feelings does not deserve them.

This, I hope, will be another (unsolicited) piece of advice that you take with you through the years.

Yours sincerely,

Dear Mr. H,
I was pleasantly surprised to receive your letter and I'm grateful for your advice.

I hope you did not think my mention of children directed at you in particular, I wrote only from previous experience. I fear I have made this gentleman sound callous where he is not, though he may have erred in his judgement at times. He certainly does not deserve what has since befallen him and his family.

You mentioned in your first letter that you have dogs, I take it you are fond of animals? I'm afraid I conform to social expectation in this one area, at least, in that I own a cat.

I'm not sure if you were expecting a response so I hope you don't mind that I've written anyway. Forgive me if I seem presumptuous.

Miss L,

I do not mind your letter in the slightest, and hope that they will continue until we grow sick of one another. I have little reason to believe this will occur in the near future.

A prank a few years back brought my Oona to me. She is a dachshund, and a more pleasant dog I never did meet! I was quite fortunate to find a stud for her, and kept one of the resulting pups for my own selfish self—besides, I worry Oona would grow lonely, had she not Orpha for company when I am otherwise engaged! I cannot rightly trust anyone who does not care for an animal well, a belief that has only intensified since inquiring the dogs. I do also keep an eagle owl, Archimedes, who you have quite plainly become acquainted with.

Worry less about the past; your future will thank you for it.

Yours sincerely,