A History of Lincolnshire in Red Ink

On the first day of July my only sister died from a disease of the lungs and my poor father who was beside himself with grief soon moved her crimson piano in the eighth room at the top of the house

I say that she was my sister but there was no similarity in our blood as I had been accepted as a foundling when I was just but a month old

My dearest Mama has succumbed to the same disease four years ago and the loss of my gentle sister had almost sent my father mad

His brother suggested a trip abroad and he slowly accepted the idea and departed for tranquillity of Southern France just as the autumn rains were beginning to break our dreadful summer

She was the fairest creature that ever breathed God’s air and was loved by everyone who came into contact with her

Although she was nearly ten years my senior I never felt that a gap existed between us

Indeed she did her upmost to enhance my musical skills knowing quite readily that I had little or no musical talent

My path was one of science and because of this I was beginning to question God and although I presented myself as a believer I was having serious doubts

Why should such a benevolent God take my mother and my sister and leave my poor father so stricken with grief

He was a good man and had taken me in from the streets without question

I had received a good education and was now at Oxford studying for my degree

My sister had been a talented pianist but was now decaying in our mausoleum with the bones of my mother

I was grieving but I was grieving in a different manner as I was angry with God