A cool morning but a beautifully clear one. We were again in some anxiety respecting our child who droops in an inexplicable manner. I went to town in my own way and was occupied in a variety of things. Drew up my Quarterly Account which is by far the smallest I ever presented. This with going round in various directions for one thing and another took my time. Finding myself so unable to pursue the investigation of title with the closeness I ought to, and perceiving that Mr. Walsh really wants business and I do not, I thought it an act of kindness in me to give it over to him to do.

Dined at Mr. Frothingham’s. Conversation not interesting. He has the strong prejudices of the sphere in which he lives and when they come in contact with mine which are as strong and as peculiar, there follows constraint. I have of late acquired the wisdom in general to hold my tongue.

Attended a meeting of the Directors of the Boylston Market where they made a good Dividend and debated the rest of the afternoon without coming to any conclusion, as usual. We have one or two great Speakers upon these occasions. Rode to Quincy. Found my Mother rather better and the rest of the family as usual. Miss Louisa Foster staying out there.1