We are arriving in Eclipse, Texas tomorrow. The train was uncomfortable, the stage coach barbaric. I must remember not to think things can’t get worse—each time I do, fate proves me wrong. May 16, 1866 This place is so different from Boston. There are no green lawns, or graceful houses. Everything is red dirt and wind. I hate it already. How can father think of moving us here? May 20, 1866 Father and I met an interesting man today. His name is Ambrose Quince. We were in the bank, speaking to the Eclipse Bank President, Stephen Pauley, when Mr. Quince introduced himself. I was flattered to have the attentions of two men. I am practicing my coquetry. Papa says he believes Mr. Quince has taken a fancy to me. I would never marry someone from here, not even a man like Mr. Pauley who resembles the men in Boston. I want to go home. Besides, Mr. Quince is much older than I am. He must be at least twenty-five. May 25, 1866 Mr.
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