June 13th, 1888
Mr. Caulfield,
I hope your owl bit you upon returning with this letter. He quite enjoyed the treats I gave him and even slept on my lap for a time before having to return to you. If you should ever tire of him, I'll gladly take him off of your hands.

And I know. I've heard plenty about how nice and charming Charlie was enough to where my ears my surely bleed in time. Should something happen to my father, I imagine my mother would gladly accept a request for her hand from you.

I've heard of the fog spreading. Luckily, it doesn't seem to be hitting here in Pennyworth yet so I should be fine for the time being. I will, however, make sure I bring something with me during the times I have to make deliveries for my mother. What would you suggest? A knife? A brick perhaps?
Sincerely,
Emmeline