I have completed the first batch of annotations which I am hereto referring as Series 1. As I have done with the first half of Series 1, I am going to take a break from annotations and review my work. I feel like the data schema has been working well and I am not sure there is more to add, but as my last review proved this is not your typical compendium. A vague reference to a childhood friend turned out to be relevant and Jonathan cannot be trusted to give clear or accurate accounts.

This is not what I wanted to write about today, though. Something has happened, or maybe not. I feel like my paranoia might be a little elevated after reading these transcripts. Coincidence feels like a stretch at the moment, though. You’ll recall about a week ago when the attic roof leaked and I spent an entire day hauling cartons of books from the attic to the ground floor, stacking them along the entry hall outside the library.

These are the kind of bankers boxes with the lid on top. They’re an ideal size for books even if I don’t recommend storing books in cardboard in an attic. I noticed today that one of the lids was partially off, like someone had peaked inside. This is strange as I have been the only one in the house the last few days. Mrs. Mundy comes at the first of the week and Mr. Hardacre has been working elsewhere on the property “preparing for winter”. It’s possible that I bumped the lid and I don’t recall, but then I looked inside.

I swear that I only brought down boxes containing books, but this contained something else: photographs. Although I had never seen these photos before, I recognized the people in them and even the event that was occurring. It was another photograph of the same banquet that the Historical Society had shown me of Fredrick Ames and a group of men in the grand dining room of this house.

The difference is that in the background of this picture I could see a hidden door open in the paneling behind them. Hidden doors are not as common as one might think in old houses. Largely staff was treated as furniture and their presence rarely registered so there was not often a reason to hide their access, especially not to a room you would expect to see them such as a dining room which would be filled with footmen. What’s even more peculiar is that I could swear it looked like someone in a dress was going through the door, not servants’ livery but a proper gown.

I don’t have access to the dining hall. All the rooms on the ground floor are shut to me except for the library and the sitting room. I would really like to know where that door goes, though. This house is more than what it seems.