June 14th, 1888

Miss Woodcroft,

He did and I'm blaming you. If you continue to feed him, he's going to end up eating my hand and I'm going to blame you if that happens. Though I may take you up on that offer. Even as I write this, I can see him staring at me and plotting my demise.

And marriage? So soon, Miss Woodcroft? I'll take it on board - but ought you focus on your student studies? I wouldn't want to be cause for distraction for you.

And I trust you are to be fine - but please be wary. And no, I do not suggest a brick. Even for you, that is quite an... stupid uneducated answer. A small knife, perhaps.

P.S. My name, Emmeline, is Charlie.

Until your next owl,
Charlie