The Secret Life of Miss Mary Bennet, Katherine Cowley [books successful people read .TXT] 📗

other side of the parlor, approached. “I will have someone bring your letter, and my own, to the post office today.” She picked up the letter, staring at the seal. “Do you always seal your letters like this?”

“Yes. It is a standard method. My mother taught me.” Her entire family used this approach. She had seen Mr. Darcy use a more complicated method once, and at times Mr. Bennet had used more complicated methods as well, but most of the time even her father sealed letters in the same manner she did.

“I would say about six in ten people send letters this way. Thus, you are correct; it is a standard method. But it is not very secure.”

Lady Trafford picked up Mary’s knife for cutting the wax. She wedged the edge of the knife underneath the sealed wax Mary had just placed on the letter.

“What are you doing?” asked Mary with horror.

“Opening your letter,” said Lady Trafford. In a few seconds, the bottom half of the wax popped off that layer of the letter. She showed the letter to Mary. “If you do it carefully, you can avoid ripping the paper. Then you can open the letter,” she did so, “read it,” she pointedly looked at each page of the letter for long enough that she could read a decent portion, “and then close it again.”

Mary swallowed, wondering if Lady Trafford had read the part of the letter written about her.

Lady Trafford held the bottom of the wax seal over the flame, not as close as Mary had done to melt the wax initially, but still close. Then she folded the final flap of the letter back down, pinching the papers tightly together without touching the seal.

“The wax will not be pressed as firmly onto the paper as it was before, since I would not have access to your metal seal to push it down completely, but it will hold, and it is unlikely that anyone would suspect that it has been opened.”

“Why would you want to read someone else’s letters?”

“Of course I do not want to read anyone’s letters. But it is a useful demonstration of why you should send your letters in a more secure fashion.”

“I do not send any secrets.”

“I am sure you do not possess any secrets, but does that mean you want to allow anyone to read whatever they choose? What if you decide to write something about me to your sisters? Do you want me to know your innermost thoughts?”

Mary’s cheeks burned. Lady Trafford had indeed read the portion of the letter about herself.

“Come, sit with me. I will show you another method for sealing your letters.”

Mary followed Lady Trafford across the room and sat. The padding on the chair sank beneath her, making the wood at the chair’s edge push uncomfortably against her leg. Mary shifted back and forth in her chair but was unable to find a better position.

“It appears that you write your letters on a quarter sheet of paper folded in half, which is good. This allows for four possible writing surfaces—like a four-page book. If you want your letter to be secure, you should only ever write on the front and the two inner pages, as you have done. Some people write on the portions of the back that will be folded into the inside, but I would not recommend it.”

Lady Trafford wrote a few nonsense words on each page. Mary cringed at the thought of this quarter sheet of paper being wasted for a demonstration. Why did Lady Trafford not show her on an actual letter? Unless Lady Trafford did not want a single word of an actual letter read.

She passed the fake letter to Mary and then wasted another quarter sheet by making a fake letter for herself. “Now follow along.” She folded the letter in thirds, and so did Mary. She folded it in half the other direction. She slid a flat, wooden board under the letter, took a pen knife, and cut a slit through all the layers of paper, about three quarters of an inch from where the edges joined together.

She passed Mary the board and the knife. It was much harder to do than it appeared; Mary had to put the knife into the slit again and again to pass through all twelve layers of paper, and it was not nearly as neat as Lady Trafford’s. Clearly that was another skill which required practice, but it was not an accomplishment Mary had heard anyone mention.

“Now, from the same type of paper, I will cut a long, thin triangle—one for each of us. You should use the same type of paper, first, so it matches the letter aesthetically, and second, because this triangle is how we will lock the letter. If someone breaks the lock, it will be difficult for them to make it appear as if the lock has never been broken, for they will need to find the exact same sort of paper.”

“I doubt that letter security is an accomplishment taught at the schools for young ladies in London.”

“If you choose the correct one, you might be surprised.” Lady Trafford continued as if Mary had not voiced any objection. “Now take the thinnest end of the triangle and insert it through the slit you have made through all the layers of paper. Pull the triangle through until it is snug. Yes, like that.” Half of the triangle piece protruded from one side of the letter, half from the other side. “Now, though it is not strictly necessary, on the pointy side of the triangle I make a cut from the tip all the way down to the letter.”

She did so, passed Mary the knife, and Mary copied. She had not played with paper this much since she was a young child, and in that case, she was punished for ruining two sheets of her father’s paper. She could not remember what the punishment was, so it must not have been dire.

Lady Trafford