Fine day. Office. To Quincy to dine. Return to tea. Evening at work.

I devoted some time to labour in my Office in finishing off various little matters of account that have been troublesome and drafted a Will for Louisa C. Smith agreeably to a wish expressed by herself to me the evening before I left Quincy.

At noon I returned and my Wife accompanied me to Quincy. We found Fanny better and the family much encouraged. I went to see her and found her lively but with a burning spot in her cheek that told of internal disease. Her mother appeared today in a state of extraordinary exultation, which carries it’s moral with it. What mere puppets we are, the sport of every touch.

I returned to town alone leaving my Wife to spend the night. Intended to have done much work but found my study cold and cheerless and so I only brought up arrears of Diary.