As those of you who are wont to read through a Gentleman's private journal will be aware, I have not been writing much of late. This is because I have been unwell. The symptoms of the illness have been too Undignified to set down, even in this most private of journals.

I am now, however, much improved, and my symptoms have significantly diminished. I cannot say that I trust these modern physicians. A true physician would never examine his patient. Instead, he would prescribe bleeding. Even so, my physician's peculiar cures, by luck or judgment, I cannot say, appear to have been efficacious and I am once more up and about.

During my illness, I thought at some points that I was hallucinating. Unexpectedly, a large, brightly-coloured bug would sometimes appear before me for several minutes at a time.

Much to my horror, upon my recovery I discovered that not only did the bug remain, but others could see it too.

What strange world is this that I have found myself in?

I have engaged an artist to produce a likeness of this creature, which I have attached below.



My incompetent servants claim that this creature is in fact a peacock. They are mistaken. This is a peacock:



The difference is, I hope, clear, even to imbeciles like my servants.

#

Recently, I have played host to my grandmother, Lady Samphire of Abergavenny. She could scarcely disguise her horror at my reduced circumstances. My former estate of Pemberley was one of the grandest in the country. My current estate, by contrast, is not. During her visit, my esteemed grandmother did her best to improve the quality of this reduced estate, but the effect was disappointing both to her and, indeed, to myself. The glory of Pemberley, it seems, cannot be replicated here.