January 3rd
DEAR PAMELA,
Although I have not seen you since you were four years old, I have a fancy that I should like you to come to Barrowfield and look after my house and its inmates while I am away on business....
Here Mr Sigglesthorne smiled and nodded his head vigorously, and leaning back in his chair began to polish his glasses again.
... I shall be away for six months, and during that time—if you agree to come—you must promise to obey the following instructions. You will please sign your name under them and give the paper to Mr Sigglesthorne, who is acting for me in this matter, as I am unable to come and visit you myself owing to my urgent call from home.
These are the instructions to be obeyed:
1. While you are staying under my roof you are not to visit, nor invite to the house, any relatives whatsoever.
2. No letters are to be written home, but one postcard every month may be sent; and you may only receive post-cards, no letters, from your relatives—and then only one card each month.
3. On no account may you try to open the locked-up room at the end of the first floor landing. Nor may you peer through the keyhole.
A faint chuckle escaped Mr Sigglesthorne, a fleeting, scarcely audible chuckle which he suffocated immediately. There was a blank space after the 'instructions' for Pamela to sign her name; and then a few more lines ended the letter.