4 Sydney Place Bath, 1801 Dearest Cassandra, I cannot write one inspired word here at our new address in Bath, so cruelly bereft of both your company and our pianoforte. I am convinced that it was not purchased for a child described by Father as- “and angel of the keys” but hammered to sticks for the fire by our brother James (soon to be incumbent of our beloved family home). He had positively roared as I practised con brio early one morning- “SONATA PATHETIQUE! Well named, I think!” added to which, I distinctly saw Mother, hands over ears, mouthing the words- “instrument of torture”. Assuaging such thoughts, but unable to suffer the “attending Horns and Clarionets”, I fled The Public Breakfast in Sydney Gardens only to find myself lost without sustenance for hours in The Labyrinth. Your aggrieved and loving sister, Jane.