Agata Chapter

Agatha Mary Clarissa Miller was bored. It was a winter morning

in 1908, and she was in bed because she was ill.

‘I'm feeling much better today,’ she said to her mother, Clara.

‘I think I'll get up.’

‘You're still ill,’ said Clara. ‘The doctor told you to stay in bed and keep warm. And that's what you're going to do!’

Agatha was eighteen years old at this time, but in those days daughters had to do what their mothers told them.

‘But I'm bored!’

‘Well, do something, then,’ said her mother. ‘Read a book. Or write a story. Yes, why don't you write a story?’

‘Write a story?’ said Agatha, surprised.

‘Yes,’ her mother said. ‘Like Madge.’

Madge was Agatha’s sister. She was eleven years older than

Agatha, and sometimes wrote short stories for magazines like Vanity Fair.

‘I don't think that I can write stories,’ said Agatha.

‘How do you know?’ said her mother. ‘You've never tried.’ And she went to find a pencil and paper.

Soon after, Agatha sat up in bed and began to write a story.

It was called House of Beauty, a strange story about dreams.

It wasn't a very good story. She typed it on Madge’s old typewriter, and sent it off to a magazine. But they sent it back with a letter: Thank you for sending us your story.

We are afraid we cannot publish it

‘You must try again,’ said her mother. Clara was always sure that her daughters could do anything.

So Agatha went on writing stories, and sending them out to magazines - but they all came back. She was a little disappointed.

‘I'll try writing a novel,’ she decided.

An idea came to her. She remembered seeing a beautiful young girl in a hotel in Cairo when she was visiting Egypt with

Clara. The girl was always with tw

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