Returned to town in a cold wind and not very pleasant day. Found letters from my father and John.1 The latter at New York, expected to see me but I was not there. My engagements have been such that I am glad I did not go on. It would have been very inconvenient to me, and have involved a return to Washington which I do not desire. I am more usefully employed here in looking over and arranging my brother’s papers, which occupied me all day. My father’s letter was more staid and sedate but still in great distress. I succeeded in arranging George’s Accounts a little more clearly and hope now to see my way out. In the evening, a few Numbers of the Spectator. Rain again.