And, after some suspicious shuffling and clattering, the door is summarily answered - by a narrow margin, so that Wysteria might peer through it. It's only once she's assessed the exact nature of the individual on her doorstep that she brightens and throws the door completely open.

"Miss Perrino! How wonderful. Please, do come in. Forgive the mess; I'm in the process of rearranging some of my files."

Indeed the room beyond is in something of a state of disorder. The papers and books on the desk have been allowed to overflow onto the floor and the foot of the bed, to say nothing of the series of charts and notes which have been tacked up on the wall itself. And while the bed itself it neatly made, its side table is stuffed with every assortment of frippery and the trunk at its foot is both open and bursting with a riot of fabric and frilly skirts.