It’s taken me this long to write anything. My face still burns when I think on it. A while ago, I was spending my half hour dinner- time reading the newspaper while chewing on my bread and cheese and drinking the left-over tea from the family’s dinner. I saw that the editor was decrying the professional football league that has been established in America, only it’s not football as we know it! There was a drawing showing the padded uniform and leather helmets the players wear. The ball is a funny shape, too, and the players spend a lot of time tackling each other for possession of the ball. Not at all like our football!
The back door opened and in sauntered Mr. Connor, as cool as you please. Now that he and Miss Fiona are engaged he thinks he has the run of the house. When I scrambled to my feet he told me I should learn to curtsey to him too, whenever I see him. I bit my tongue, wanting to tell him she should learn to ring the bell when he comes to this house. He walked over to me and then squeezed my breast, and said something about minding my betters! I could smell whiskey on his breath. Mrs. Andrews came into the kitchen and seemed surprised to see him, but asked him to follow her to the drawing room where Miss Fiona was waiting for him. She gave me a right black look, and I’m sure she thought I had been flirting with him. “Mind your place, Jean,” she hissed at me as she left the room. I felt so ashamed and dirty, I had to go out to the privy and throw up my dinner. I haven’t been able to tell anyone else about this, but now I make sure the back door is locked. I don’t dare tell them at home about this.
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