A Vignette

By 'acquainted with Vitruvius'

"Thank you, Mr. Rodger!" Mrs. Hudson, standing near the gate, called out to the postmaster as he pedaled off into the approaching dusk. She looked down at the letter he had thought to bring to her specially - one mailed from Bombay from Mary! With great excitement, she ripped the envelope open and began to read.

"Dear Mrs. Hudson," it began in the style common to personal letters. "Before you read this letter in its entirety, please make yourself a cup of tea and have a seat. I have some exciting news to tell you."

Mrs. Hudson smiled at this, in state somewhere between relief and great joy, closing her eyes and clutching the letter to her bosom as though it was the most sacred piece of paper she had ever seen. She put the rest of the letter in her pocket, and proceeded down the path and into the house to do as Mary had requested.

As she put the kettle on, Mrs. Hudson was humming, anticipating what the news would be. My Mary's expecting! That has to be her exciting news! She began to think of the angelic face coming into the kitchen, trying to twist out of her a cookie made for the Vicar's tea, or sneaking in to get a scone before tea time. She began to imagine all the trouble the imp would get into (and knowing the darling's parents, the child would be an imp and quite a handful!).

But would it be a little boy or girl? Mrs. Hudson privately hoped it would be a little girl - so much easier to raise! She would be named after her mother, of course, and possibly her grandmother. Of course, Mary might decide to go for something more Biblical and scholarly, but Mrs. Hudson hoped not.

And if it was a little boy... Sherlock just was not a good name for a little boy, Mrs. Hudson decided. Perhaps after Dr. Watson? Mary was quite fond of him. Yes, the name John would do admirably.

Mrs. Hudson continued her daydreaming for several more minutes, imagining first steps, first birthdays, first cuts and scrapes, and first loves, as she toasted a muffin and the kettle began to sing. She poured herself a cup of tea, sat down in the chair closest to the warm stove, and pulled out her letter to continue reading.

The second page looked as it had originally been the first page, but then Mary was afraid of shocking Mrs. Hudson or causing her great distress, so had put the warning note. It was dated several weeks earlier from a reputable hotel in Bombay. "Dear Mrs. Hudson," it began for a second time. "I have some extremely exciting news. There's no easy way to tell you this as I expect you will be very disappointed in what I am about to write." Disappointed? Mrs. Hudson thought to herself. Nonsense! With a slight smile, she resumed reading, only to have that smile melt from her face into a look of utter shock.

"Mrs. Hudson, I am afraid that I had to cut my hair."

That one line sat there on the page, unwilling to disappear, to rearrange itself into something less dramatic, less traumatic. Her hair? A tear rolled down her check. Mrs. Hudson stood up, walked to the sink to look out the window into the garden. She placed her hands on it, as if she needed the support and took a deep breath. Maybe she did not cut it that much - just a bit of a trim? No, a quick glance back at the letter denied this - "it was as short as Holmes' hair." But why Mary, why? she demanded silently.

Mrs. Hudson set back down, took a deep sip of tea, and finished reading the letter. It had something to do with rescuing Mr. Holmes, it appeared. She needed to be disguised as a military officer, and Mary was "her teacher's pupil before I became my husband's wife, learning to my bones that half a disguise is none at all," meaning she had to cut her hair into a short, military style.

Mary went on to say that it was probably going to have to be cut in any case, as it had been damaged and felt like straw. She had tried putting oil on it, but it remained dry and brittle. Holmes had not seen her with her damaged hair, and of that she was grateful. It must have been horrible, if she felt that strongly about it, Mrs. Hudson thought, tsking softly in sympathy. There was one amusing piece - Mary describing the scene where Holmes (in disguise) first sees Mary (in disguise) and nearly faints like an old maid. Mrs. Hudson laughed at the picture Mary drew of the scene. Really, Mrs. Hudson thought, Mary should write a book sometime.

The letter continued with a note that they were continuing on to San Francisco, possibly stopping in Hawaii to see that tropical paradise for a week or two, for her to deal with some business related to her family's California holdings. It ended with a request for her (Mrs. Hudson) to beginning to think of something she (Mary) could to do to make her hair more presentable until it had a chance to grow out.

Having finished her letter and her tea, Mrs. Hudson stood up, carried her cup and muffin plate to the sink, and began to wash up. Her thoughts, no longer on an angelic face, were on how to make Mary's hair presentable, for after all, before Mary was her teacher's pupil, Mrs. Hudson was Mary's teacher's housekeeper, learning to her bones that recovering from a disguise was sometimes more difficult that creating and maintaining one.