Chapter 2

I was an erudite child; a lettered highbrow. By comparison of my peers I was quite bookish, intellectual, and wordy- in the wrong sort of way, of course.

I often struggled then, to remember that it is easy to juxtapose things that are complete opposites.

Edifying as my instructors were, they too seemed to take offence every time I raised my hand in answer to a query. Oftentimes, I found myself the only pupil in the room with a raised hand.

Never mind that I showed great pedagogic skill and took a didactic approach to my classes, I always seemed to find myself cast aside.

In fact, I had one pedagogue who seemed to take immense pleasure in ignoring me when I asked for help, infrequent as that occurrence was.

I suppose he took too humiliating me for being devoted to reading and studying, rather than in the worldly interests of my peers, who often showcased their selfish desires, cravings for wealth, and their absurd envy of others for their shiny baubles. Or perhaps it were that he was miffed that I had bested him in his own lesson?

Oh, I studied assiduously; better to hide away, thought I, than to face the inequity of adolescence.

I was a diffident youth, timorous, and at times extremely reticent about my personal affairs.

I was brought up tutored in the old ways, you see, by an imposing European father and a Welsh mother who'd do everything in her power to ensure her only daughter would become a woman of superior social position- including bringing into her home a stern woman by the name, Charlotte Adèle Adrienne D'alcy- British born; married French, and she was to be my new tutor. We may well call her governess.

In introspect, I almost missed her now that she is no longer here to criticise my waltz form.