Fine day. The air milder than it has been. I went to Boston alone. My time partly wasted, partly taken up in Accounts and partly in investigations at the Office of the Register of Deeds, as yet without fruit. My father wrote me a letter1 requesting some things which I procured and then went to Quincy. Found my Mother still exceedingly ill. She has been suffering now for ten days without apparent amendment. A lung fever of great violence. I sat with her much of the afternoon but she was unable to talk much. The house seemed disconsolate enough. In the evening I sat up in my room and read German.