Morning cloudy and very cold. I rode into town from Medford early and found the want of some clothing considerable. My Summer dress annoyed me almost as much as the winter dress the other day. At the Office, engaged all the morning. Abby Adams sent in a letter to me which she had received from my Mother.1 This letter stated that they should leave Washington on this day, and requested her to make some necessary preparations. I accordingly thought proper to ride to Quincy after dinner and see her about it. I also went to the House to see what portion of furniture might be immediately put in use. The 384sight of the old house and its condition made me sick. I felt disgust at it’s extremely dismal appearance. And my father’s singular character makes it almost hopeless to look for better things. The Nursery looks miserably and every thing bears powerful marks of utter want of attention. After taking tea at my Uncle’s, and on the whole getting through much better than I expected, I returned to town quite late. I can imagine nothing more miserably planned than this design of my father’s, and I really feel thankful that circumstances have rendered me so independent of it.