The grimoire indicated that the spell could have unpleasant side effects. I discovered that it positively does. The fault lies partially with myself. I was so sure that Oliver would not seek me out while the effects of the spell lasted that I made no effort to ensure that I would not see him. But he made plain this morning that I did see him during the spell's effects. Unfortunately I remember almost nothing!
The spell was intended to remove memories of Oliver from my mind, but one of the awful side effects is that I now have only the haziest of memories of the past three days. And so I had no idea why there was such a disarray in the green-house this morning. One of the stools was overturned and there were some broken clay pots. It looked as though there was a struggle but between whom or why I do not know. And my diary is of no assistance whatsoever. I appear to have become infantilised, or semi-literate during the three days of the spell. On the first day I wrote: "the flowers are so beautiful beautiful the red ones and pink ones and yellow ones especially and the fragrance is heavenly"; on the second day I wrote: "I don't like the peevish man, he is tiresome and he confuses me." and on the third day I wrote: "bad cruel man! I hate you!!!" and the page is stained with tears.
I don't doubt that the man I am referring to is Oliver. I expect that he was extremely confused by the fact that I did not recognize him. I gather that he thought that I was playing some sort of trick on him, and he was quite cross with me. As I was tidying up the green-house this morning he appeared in the doorway, and the sudden sight of him caused me to start and cry "Oliver!"
He stood with his hands on his hips, dressed in his usual exquisite style, with jacket, waistcoat, boots and all, and seemed extremely pleased with himself: "Well Mrs. Corning, I see that my lesson has not been imparted to you in vain. I hope that from now on you will recall it, henceforth, whenever you feel the urge to play saucy games with me as you have for the past few days."
Not having any idea what "lesson" he was referring to, and being certain that my explaining that I had cast a spell upon myself would not be believed, I had no choice but to pretend that I understood. "Oh certainly, Oliver, I will recall your lesson."
"See to it that you do. You know I am a fair-minded and even-tempered man as a rule, but I am stern if provoked - as you have discovered. You and I will get along much better henceforth if you mind your manners and always treat me with the respect and deference that a man is due from a woman."
Normally I might have disputed with him on this last point, but I wanted the uncomfortable conversation to end, so I responded: "indeed, Oliver, with all due respect."
And smirking, he said: "remember the promise that I finally got from you: 'I swear from now on to be a very good girl!'" and he stepped over one of the broken clay pots and walked out of the green-house.
And as he departed, my heart beat more violently than ever for him because in forgetting him for three days, it was as if he had been away for a long time, and my heart had much to do to catch up. As I watched him walk away, in his distinctive, masculine gait, my lustful desires for him were more overwhelming than ever, and I felt weak from it.
I righted the stool and was about to sit down but realized I could not, due to the most bizarre and dismaying effect of this awful spell - I have never heard of any spell provoking such a side-effect: my posterior was extremely sore! I could not sit down on the stool and in fact I have been walking about all day, unable to sit without the greatest of discomfort. And when I examined the area, I saw that it was bright red. I will certainly make an effort to ensure that the grimoire is updated in the next edition so that other sorceresses do not attempt this love-forgetting spell. It does more harm than good.