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@@ -21,7 +21,7 @@
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:letter">
 				<header>
 					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Queen Anne Street,<br/>
-					— August, 186-.</p>
+					— August, 186‒.</p>
 				</header>
 				<p epub:type="z3998:salutation">Dearest John⁠—</p>
 				<p>We reached home yesterday tired enough, as we came through from Paris without stopping. I may indeed say that we came through from Strasbourg, as we only slept in Paris. I don’t like Strasbourg. A steeple, after all, is not everything, and putting the steeple aside, I don’t think the style is good. But the hotel was uncomfortable, which goes for so much;⁠—and then we were saturated with beauty of a better kind.</p>

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@@ -16,7 +16,7 @@
 			<p>She answered Alice’s letter with a pleasant, gossiping epistle, which shall be recorded, as it will tell us something of <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Greenow’s proceedings at Yarmouth. Kate had promised to stay at Yarmouth for a month, but she had already been there six weeks, and was still under her aunt’s wing.</p>
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-					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Yarmouth, October, 186-.</p>
+					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Yarmouth, October, 186‒.</p>
 				</header>
 				<p epub:type="z3998:salutation">Dearest Alice,</p>
 				<p>Of course I am delighted. It is no good saying that I am not. I know how difficult it is to deal with you, and therefore I sit down to answer your letter with fear and trembling, lest I should say a word too much, and thereby drive you back, or not say quite enough and thereby fail to encourage you on. Of course I am glad. I have long thought that <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Grey could not make you happy, and as I have thought so, how can I not be glad? It is no use saying that he is good and noble, and all that sort of thing. I have never denied it. But he was not suited to you, and his life would have made you wretched. Ergo, I rejoice. And as you are the dearest friend I have, of course I rejoice mightily.</p>

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@@ -27,7 +27,7 @@
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:letter">
 				<header>
 					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Castle Reekie, <abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">N.B.</abbr><br/>
-					—<abbr>Oct.</abbr> 186-.</p>
+					—<abbr>Oct.</abbr> 186‒.</p>
 				</header>
 				<p epub:type="z3998:salutation">My dear Miss Vavasor,</p>
 				<p>I have not the pleasure of knowing you personally, though I have heard of you very often from our dear mutual friend and relative Lady Macleod, with whom I understand that you are at present on a visit. Your grandmother⁠—by the mother’s side⁠—Lady Flora Macleod, and my mother the Countess of Leith, were half-sisters; and though circumstances since that have prevented our seeing so much of each other as is desirable, I have always remembered the connection, and have ever regarded you as one in whose welfare I am bound by ties of blood to take a warm interest.</p>

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@@ -14,7 +14,7 @@
 			<p><abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Grey’s answer to Alice Vavasor’s letter, which was duly sent by return of post and duly received on the morning after Lady Macleod’s visit, may perhaps be taken as giving a sample of his worthiness. It was dated from Nethercoats, a small country-house in Cambridgeshire which belonged to him, at which he already spent much of his time, and at which he intended to live altogether after his marriage.</p>
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:letter">
 				<header>
-					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Nethercoats, June, 186-.</p>
+					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Nethercoats, June, 186‒.</p>
 				</header>
 				<p epub:type="z3998:salutation">Dearest Alice,</p>
 				<p>I am glad you have settled your affairs⁠—foreign affairs, I mean⁠—so much to your mind. As to your home affairs they are not, to my thinking, quite so satisfactorily arranged. But as I am a party interested in the latter my opinion may perhaps have an undue bias. Touching the tour, I quite agree with you that you and Kate would have been uncomfortable alone. It’s a very fine theory, that of women being able to get along without men as well as with them; but, like other fine theories, it will be found very troublesome by those who first put it in practice. Gloved hands, petticoats, feminine softness, and the general homage paid to beauty, all stand in the way of success. These things may perhaps some day be got rid of, and possibly with advantage; but while young ladies are still encumbered with them a male companion will always be found to be a comfort. I don’t quite know whether your cousin George is the best possible knight you might have chosen. I should consider myself to be infinitely preferable, had my going been upon the cards. Were you in danger of meeting Paynim foes, he, no doubt, would kill them off much quicker than I could do, and would be much more serviceable in liberating you from the dungeons of oppressors, or even from stray tigers in the Swiss forests. But I doubt his being punctual with the luggage. He will want you or Kate to keep the accounts, if any are kept. He will be slow in getting you glasses of water at the railway stations, and will always keep you waiting at breakfast. I hold that a man with two ladies on a tour should be an absolute slave to them, or they will not fully enjoy themselves. He should simply be an upper servant, with the privilege of sitting at the same table with his mistresses. I have my doubts as to whether your cousin is fit for the place; but, as to myself, it is just the thing that I was made for. Luckily, however, neither you nor Kate are without wills of your own, and perhaps you may be able to reduce <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Vavasor to obedience.</p>

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@@ -17,7 +17,7 @@
 			<p>It was late at night, near eleven, before Kate took out her letter and read it. As something of my story hangs upon it, I will give it at length, though it was a long letter. It had been written with great struggles, and with many tears, and Kate, as she read it to the end, almost forgot that her grandfather was lying dead in the room above her.</p>
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:letter">
 				<header>
-					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Queen Anne Street, April, 186-.</p>
+					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Queen Anne Street, April, 186‒.</p>
 				</header>
 				<p epub:type="z3998:salutation">Dearest Kate,</p>
 				<p>I hardly know how to write to you⁠—what I have to tell, and yet I must tell it. I must tell it to you, but I shall never repeat the story to anyone else. I should have written yesterday, when it occurred, but I was so ill that I felt myself unable to make the exertion. Indeed, at one time, after your brother had left me, I almost doubted whether I should ever be able to collect my thoughts again. My dismay was at first so great that my reason for a time deserted me, and I could only sit and cry like an idiot.</p>

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@@ -61,7 +61,7 @@
 			<p>There was something said then as to the necessity of looking for pardon beyond this world, which I need not here repeat. To all her old friend’s little sermons Alice was infinitely more attentive than had been her wont, so that Lady Macleod was comforted and took heart of grace, and at last brought forth from under her pillow a letter from the Countess of Midlothian, which she had received a day or two since, and which bore upon Alice’s case. “I was not quite sure whether I’d show it you,” said Lady Macleod, “because you wouldn’t answer her when she wrote to you. But when I’m gone, as I shall be soon, she will be the nearest relative you have on your mother’s side, and from her great position, you know, Alice⁠—” But here Alice became impatient for the letter. Her aunt handed it to her, and she read as follows:⁠—</p>
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:letter">
 				<header>
-					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Castle Reekie, July, 186-.</p>
+					<p epub:type="se:letter.dateline">Castle Reekie, July, 186‒.</p>
 				</header>
 				<p epub:type="z3998:salutation">Dear Lady Macleod⁠—</p>
 				<p>I am sorry to hear of the symptoms you speak about. I strongly advise you to depend chiefly on beef-tea. They should be very careful to send it up quite free from grease, and it should not be too strong of the meat. There should be no vegetables in it. Not soup, you know, but beef-tea. If anything acts upon your strength, that will. I need not tell one who has lived as you have done where to look for that other strength which alone can support you at such a time as this. I would go to you if I thought that my presence would be any comfort to you, but I know how sensitive you are, and the shock might be too much for you.</p>