Rosalie found her repose in a cozy rocking chair beside the crackling fireplace while Aurora, her dear and loyal friend, occupied the adjacent seat, wholly engrossed in her delicate flower embroidery.
Lost in her reverie, a pronounced furrow marked the expanse between Lady Ashter's brows. With an air of intensity, she diligently inscribed her thoughts onto the aged, yellowed pages of her notebook, yet, her efforts culminated in a series of frustrated gestures, scratching out all traces of her previous work.
Concern for her mistress's delicate fingers and the unfortunate fate of the notebook compelled the maid to suspend her own tasks. She ventured to address the matter with genuine apprehension, her voice a blend of care and curiosity,
"Pardon me, My Lady, but might something be troubling you? You have been vigorously fighting with your notebook for quite some time now."
