"You don't sound like an old maid, I promise," Julia says, letting out a surprised little breath. "I... wrote something saying the same sort of thing once." Maybe it shouldn't be unexpected, but for all the boys who didn't make it home from the war, she isn't really used to talking to people who've been in a similar position to hers. There's something almost refreshing about it, being reminded that it's not just her, hearing words so close to her own coming from someone else. She'd have liked Beth instinctively, she thinks, but it's even truer for that sense of kinship, of understanding.

"That, or we both sound like old maids. Which might be just as likely, I don't know." Judging by her smile, she doesn't really think that's the case, but being a touch self-deprecating about the whole thing has helped her stay sane. "It really does, though, I think. Just passes before you can even realize it."