By-the-bye, as I must leave off being young, I find many douceurs in being a sort of chaperon, for I am put on the sofa near the fire, and can drink as much wine as I like.
I do wonder, though, about how society determined when someone transitioned from being a young lady in need of chaperoning to being an old maid who did the chaperoning. Sure, it was a different time and place, but there’s no reason to think that old maids or widows weren’t interested in some hanky panky with available (or unavailable *gasp*) men, too. People haven’t changed that much, even if the rules of social decorum have. I guess I should be grateful that whatever people make of my single state, at least I’m not required to bring an escort to watch over my every move.