Wrote to my Mother before breakfast. At the Office, Blackstone. Received a long letter from my Mother and one from John.1
The latter, an Invitation to his Wedding on the 25th. I do not know what to say about it, and I reflected so much upon that subject as
to make study quite useless. After dinner, as I felt incapable of doing any thing, I went to Medford, and spent the remainder of the time in conversation with Abby. I consulted her upon the subject of this visit. But she felt in a manner bound by her peculiar situation. It has its advantages and its disadvantages, and I am more fairly puzzled than I ever was before in all my life.