28th February, 1888
Dear Diary,
Feeling a great deal better this week. Life is Not So Bad as I thought it once. Perhaps it's because we see the sun once in a while again, now, but I am in a perfectly good mood. And a perfect angel to Frida and Clementine, both: I have plenty of energy and patience to spare for them, no matter how ridiculous they might be being!
I confess I was a touch silly myself during Divination class today - you know how it can be with classes in the afternoons. No one is quite concentrating. (No one is quite concentrating in Professor Carmichael's classes ever anyway, obviously.) So, you see, we were clustered around crystal balls at our tables - they're perhaps not his favourite thing to teach, I don't think, but of course they're on the syllabus - and we might not have been doing very much divining when he came around and sat down opposite us; you know how awkward and quiet it suddenly gets. So I supposed I ought to take one for the team and started peering in the crystal ball for a future to recite to him, and at first I thought it was going remarkably well: "There's a dark figure..." et cetera, only then as I kept describing the details - light eyes, a mysterious smile, curly black hair - well, I realised I had only seen Professor Carmichael's reflection! I could barely keep a straight face; all the girls at the table were in fits of giggles. Do you think he knew what was going on? I can never tell whether he's being sarcastic or not. Do you think he thought I was doing it on purpose? I plainly wasn't; that would have been very forward of me, don't you think?
Maybe he only took it as an omen of him marking my homework or something. He mustn't know how often we only use the tarot cards and such to try and prophesy soulmates for each other... Not that I think I would be complaining if Professor Carmichael were to show up in the cards for my future husband, you know. He's a little odd - what Divination Professor wouldn't be - but he's the handsomest teacher in the school. I can't remember who said it, but she was right: his eyes are like crystal balls. You can get quite lost in staring in them!
Love, Jemima
