Hmmm. I hear from the Memsahib (damned clever things these mobile phones) that we've had a few problems with locals foraging for firewood down in the small copse by the gatehouse. Probably means they've cust a hole in the deer fence again. I'm surprised Arabella didn't see them from her room in the south tower, but maybe she was talking with Nanny.
Damn shame you can't set the dogs on them really. I'll have a word with Squiffy Senior the local Magistrate, see if he'll help out.
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The life and times of a scion of the landed gentry, forced by circumstances to undertake normal employment to maintain the family estates.
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Veritas Demonstrationis Tollit Errorem Nominis.
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