Mrs. H here again. That sweet Sophie asked me to tell you about the happenings here in Cottonwood. A few weeks ago a new person arrived in town. I don’t know whether he’ll stay and plant himself here for good, but if he does he’s gonna have to learn a few things about living in Iowa. He’s from England. He’s brought his fancy, stuck up ways with him.
Lord St. John Lytton is his name. People around here don’t much take to calling anyone but God by the title lord. He’s living with Theo and Gladys Ralston. Theo owns the livery stable. Remember what happened to Sterling and Lydia there? Seems the Ralstons' were employees of the Marquess de Monteforte, fancy name isn’t it, back in England before they immigrated here.
Well, Mr. Lytton, as he is now accepting to being called, has certainly come down in the world. He’s mucking out horse stalls for his work. I hope that humbles him some.
The other big news is that Maggie Taylor has moved out of her parent’s home and into the apartment about the newspaper office where she works. Wouldn’t I have liked to been a fly on the wall when she told her mother. Beulah has always dominated her daughters. The rest have all married and moved away. I know I would if I was one and got the chance. Poor Maggie’s been the focus of her mother’s manipulations since the last one left.
Leon Dahlrimple, the newspaper owner, used to live in the apartment. He and Ida Smith got married so he offered it to Maggie. I haven’t been up to visit. The stairs are a might too much for my heart. I hear she’s working on curtains and cushions to brighten up the place. Seems Leon wasn’t much for decorating.
The most recent development is that Leon wants Maggie to learn to drive a buggy so she can do the news route gathering it and delivering print orders. He goes around to the neighboring towns but is getting too busy to do it himself. So Maggie learning to drive would help him quite a bit.
Anyway, Mr. St. John Lytton, whose friends are allowed to call him Sinjon, is the one teaching Maggie to drive. We’ll have to wait to see what happens. I know Beulah would be just delighted if something more developed from the lessons. Something of a more permanent measure. We’ll just have to wait and see.