Jessamine huffed, rolling her eyes, thinking rather the same thing about talking to Isobel about this topic; there was no way either of them were going to get the other to agree. “First of all, my family avoids muggle technology,” she pointed out; they didn’t use anything with electricity as they would either do without or find some sort of magical alternative. Regardless of her opinion on the subject of muggles, her father at the very least was incredibly purist and would never approve of such things in their home, “I never meant that progress altogether was wrong. Just that ladies have a certain place and it would bring the whole of Society itself to a standstill if we were just doing whatever we pleased, acting inappropriate and like…well, you.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Jessamine didn’t mind having books, of course, and she thought that getting an education was important, as a proud Ravenclaw, but she would never agree that women should be out there working or acting like men.

Once again, Jessamine was gasping in horror, her gloved hand delicately covering her mouth as if she was trying to act extra prissy for effect, but this time it was because she thought Miss Valenduris was being inappropriate with her references to breeding as if she was some sort of street woman who knew about such things before marriage. “I can’t believe you just said that!” she chastised her, pinching her lips and placing her hand over her heart as if she needed to calm herself down before she required a fainting couch, “I see now what the problem is. Your family has done you a great disservice and taught you wrong. I do hope your future husband will forgive you for being this way.” Jessamine would like to believe she was as perfect as her father wanted her to be, and would marry very well, soon after her first season. “Even if you are not to inherit because you’re a lady in a long line of men doesn’t mean your husband won’t and he will need a wife who can handle running a home properly,” she felt the need to remind her. Maybe Isobel ought to go to a finishing school - perhaps that would fix her up.

“If you’re going to act like a man, people are going to treat you like one,” she told her, though it was clear in her tone that it wasn’t a good thing, “And that will make you ruined, you know.” It was just then she finally spotted Heather among the crowd. She was filled with relief, because honestly she was certain that neither she nor Isobel wanted to speak to each other much longer. “There she is,” she sighed, waving over to her, hoping that she would see her so they could leave this dreadful place, “Miss Valenduris, I do hope you rethink your future soon. I’d hate to read about your ruination in the society pages.”