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Watson looked up from the newspaper he was reading hearing the front door bell being rung. He heard the landlady downstairs walking down the hall to answer the door. Soon, he heard two voices talking - one belonging to the landlady and the other belonging to the person at the door. Just as Watson returned his gaze to the article he was reading, the landlady knocked on his door. "Yes?" replied Watson, looking up as the door opened. "There is a Mrs. Irene Watson waiting downstairs for you, sir." "Irene?" echoed Watson in surprise. There was only one Irene Watson he knew of - a dear cousin of his. It had been years since he had last seen her. In fact, the last time they had met was before he left for the war. Could it be true that his cousin was waiting for him downstairs? Watson folded his newspaper quickly and got up, following the landlady down the stairs. Waiting at the front door was a woman, barely a few years younger than Watson himself, wearing her dark brown hair up in a bun and a flowing silvery blue gown. She glanced up seeing movement on the stairs and her face instantly lit up. "Cousin!" she exclaimed, stepping forward to greet Watson. "Irene!" said Watson in an excited tone matching that of hers, as he pulled her into a hug. Watson couldn't believe it. His dear cousin was indeed here in London and came to visit. She had been the first family member since he returned from the war to come visit him on Baker Street. Soon, his thoughts of excitement were pushed aside as curiousty crept in. "What brings you here to London?" asked Watson, as he pulled away and directed her towards the den. "I must admit it's a bit of a shock to have you come here." The landlady disappeared down the hall towards the kitchen to prepare some tea. Watson led Irene to the couch in the den, before taking a seat in the armchair across from it. "Do I need a reason to come visit my dear cousin?" replied Irene, her bright blue eyes dancing merrily. "You do realize that you're the first family member to come visit me," said Watson. "I am?" responded Irene, her smile disappearing for a brief moment, before reappearing. "Well, I guess I've just made a point to them then. Those who truly love you will make the effort to find your whereabouts and come see you." Watson smiled at this, before looking over seeing the landlady walk in with a silver tray with two matching porcelain cups on matching saucers and a steaming teapot in the middle. "Thank you," said Watson, as the landlady set the tray down on the table between them. The landlady bowed before leaving the two alone once again. Watson watched his cousin as she leaned over to pour the hot water from the teapot into her cup. She picked the cup up and pulled the tag attached to the string, making the teabag bounce up and down the water. The once clear water soon turned into a light golden color as the tea leaked out. "So," said Watson, breaking the silence, "What have you been up to lately? How is your mother?" "There's not much to tell," responded Irene, as she stopped dragging the teacup around in her cup. "Most of my life has been made up of my mother nagging me about finding a suitable husband." "And how has that been going?" "It's become irritating." "Has there not been any men asking for your hand back home?" "Oh, there's been plenty of men," said Irene, a hint of disgust in her voice. "And there's been plenty of offers. But none of them suit my interests." "Perhaps you are setting your sights too high." "Oh, Cousin, you would not be saying such things if you knew what men have been coming to ask for my hand," said Irene. "Is that so?" responded Watson, raising an eyebrow. It had been a long time since he had been back home, so he doubted that many of the people he knew to be of Irene's age would still be living around. None the less, he thought about the men he had once know. As he continued to go down the mental list of men, he began to realize that Irene spoke the truth. In his opinion, none of the men he thought of would be suitable matches for Irene, despite having wealth or a large estate. "Perhaps you are right," responded Watson, concluding his thought process. "Mother, however, is still as stubborn as ever," said Irene. "She becomes frustrated whenever I turn someone's offer down. For the past few years, all she's done is sending hints here and there that I should find a husband. I've become so tired of her nagging that I wanted to get away." "And that's what you did?" asked Watson. "But why come here? Why not go to a family member's residence back home?" "That would be no escape of my mother's nagging, cousin," replied Irene. "She's constantly visiting the various family members every week. No, I had to find a place where I could escape to, but was somewhere where I still knew someone." "So, you came to me," said Watson. "Does your mother know you are here?" "That I came to see you? No. She's doesn't," said Irene. "I told her that I was coming to London to find a suitable husband. If I told her I was coming to see you, she would insist on tagging along. That wouldn't help me in my plan of escaping her presence." "So you've lied to her?" asked Watson, looking at her disapprovingly. "No. Not completely," replied Irene, giving an defiant look. "To be totally honest, I had planned on coming to London originally. And to please mother, I did decide to look for possible candidates. I wasn't sure when I planned on coming. That is until I read your name in a newspaper article about some murder case. At first, I wasn't certain whether it was truly your name or not. But I know no other person with the surname of Watson, who is around my age, and is a Doctor. As soon as I was convinced that it was you, I asked around and I found out that you were living here in London." "How long do you plan on staying here?" asked Watson. "Where do you plan on staying?" "Well..." said Irene, looking down at her cup. "I had hoped to stay here with you." She looked back up at him. "But if you don't have room, I can try to find other arrangements." "It'll be no problem," replied Watson, smiling and leaning forward to place a comforting hand on hers. His glance lowered down to the watch on his wrist on his outstretched arm, and his eyes widened in surprise. "What is it?" asked Irene, noticing the change in her cousin's expression. "I'm afraid I have a prior engagement I must attend to," said Watson, standing up. "You can stay here and make yourself comfortable. When I get back, we can discuss further on the matter of where you'll stay." "Very well," said Irene, as she watched her cousin rush out of the den, pulling his coat off the coat rack, and disappearing out the door.
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