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practically forced me to give my word. Would she hold it against me if I broke
that promise now, after four years? Does she miss me? Does she ever think of me? Is she still alive? I would so like to share with her all that is happening to me, to introduce her to my new
life.
    23rd May 1909
    It is settled. Tomorrow, we will visit the Exhibition. That’s the exciting news. But after that, in two days’ time, I must return to school. The prospect makes me
very downhearted. I am having such a wonderful time. The country means nothing to me without Lady Violet there to encourage and befriend me. Here, with Flora, I feel as though I have found a real
sister.
    Later
    A lady called Katherine Mansfield came by this afternoon to lend Flora a volume of John Ruskin’s work,
The Stories of Venice
, because Flora is planning a trip to
Italy later this summer. Miss Mansfield was invited to stay to tea. I rather liked her. She is originally from New Zealand.
    “Do you know the writings of Ruskin?” she asked me.
    I confessed that I did not.
    “Ah, he is one of the greatest writers of English prose. You must read him, particularly if you have ambitions to be a journalist, Dollie. His earlier works on travel and art are quite
exceptional.”
    Then the discussion turned to a Debussy concert she had attended yesterday evening at the Queen’s Hall. This was followed by passionate complaints about the stench and pollution caused by
motor cars. “There are so many of the blasted things now. Everywhere in this city, the streets reek of petroleum,” she cried. “It is not at all like my home town of Wellington. I
positively refuse to use one. If I take a cab, it must be a hansom.”
    Flora hooted with laughter. “Oh, Katherine, my dear, I fear that you will never visit me again!” And she confessed that she has ordered a Fiat motor car, which will be arriving any
day now.
    Miss Mansfield then told us that in Australia and New Zealand women are far better regarded than in England. In those two far-off antipodean countries, women have already won the vote!
    “Melbourne, the last state on the Australian continent to concede it, gave women the vote last year.
    Here in England we females are disgracefully discriminated against and oppressed by men,” she lamented, and continued by saying that until we have the vote and a voice of our own, nothing
will change.
    How I agree with her sentiments!
    24th May 1909
    The Exhibition! Oh, the Exhibition! What sights I have seen and what a secret adventure I have made of it.
    First, we visited two replica prison cells. I went inside one of them and walked around. It was eerie! And so cramped. They had been constructed to demonstrate what women are suffering on our
behalf, the conditions they are being forced to endure for the sake of what they believe is our right. And it
is
our right. Women should have a voice in this country. In every country.
    Afterwards, to brighten our mood, we ate the most delicious ice cream from a stall set up by Americans, and then we paraded up and down the alleys, in amongst the busy throng of chattering
people, peering at all the goods on offer. Of course I had no money to buy anything, but I didn’t care. I was there to look, gaze and breathe it all in. We visited stalls with displays of
exotic pieces of jewellery, and all sorts of handicrafts. I have never seen so many lace pillowslips and tablecloths! There were kindly stallholders selling books, flowers, herbs, needlework,
chinaware, fancy hats and Lord knows what else. There were bands playing rousing music, tables laid out for tea. We made a stop at a booth for the Actresses’ Franchise League. Flora, of
course, knew everyone and was greeted with much embracing. She introduced me to a group of her actress friends. I do not remember all their names, but Elizabeth Robins, the American woman with the
amber beads who was at Flora’s the other day, was one of them. Several others were fluttering around a