Dear Journal, after a lovely dinner with the family, Clarke came through with a telegram, for me. I was instantly on edge to receive a post at the late hour. I tried to appear nonplussed and place my coffee cup carefully on the side table. Cousin Rosemary stopped her elegant recital of piano overtures in surprise. Mr. and Mrs. Willoby stopped short as well and placed their playing cards on the table waiting for my response. I opened the post, read it carefully and attempted to disguise my surprise. I suspect my efforts were rather meager because I could read the concern of their expressions. I gathered my wits quickly and stifled a false laugh to exclaim some nonsense about Mr. Sullivan finding a possible buyer for Number Ten Maple Lane. I rambled on about my reasons for selling and how pleased I am with Mr. Sullivan’s interventions on my behalf. Cousin Rosemary remarked that it was peculiar for Mr. Sullivan to send the telegram on at such a late hour. She felt that information could have waited for morning. I instantly recovered and remarked that tomorrow was a Sunday, and he would have known we would be at Church. She seemed to accept that explanation. I would not want to concern any of the Willoby’s with incomplete information, they have been so kind to me. I will proceed as Brother Phillip suggests. The Vicar is expecting us, it was not a total falsehood. Oh my.