The morning was cloudy and threatened snow, but it finally cleared away and became very fine, as if it seemed difficult to break up the continued series of fine weather which we have enjoyed. I was at the Office all the morning engaged in my usual duties and in reading Williston. I made a call and sat with Mr. Davis for a few minutes. Mr. Cruft also came and informed me of a Fire which had occurred during the Night in the House owned by my Father and occupied by Mrs. Oliver.1 This is not agreeable News for it is probably too small to be covered by my Father’s Insurance. I deferred going to see it however until I should be sent for. After dinner I went to see the spot where the Fire took. The Kitchen came very near being destroyed. It was luckily saved from the violence of the Enginemen, so that the Expense of repair will probably be trifling. From thence I went down to meet Chapman and Pickering upon a Committee upon the affairs of the Debating Society which kept us an hour.2 We looked over their Affairs and made out a case, not of the most flattering kind. I left them to go to the Office and meet Mr. Hollis my father’s Carpenter, and direct him to estimate the amount of damage done so as to ascertain if the Insurance Office will pay it. Thence home where I read only a little of Sophocles before Tea. The evening was passed in reading Clarissa Harlowe. We progressed beyond the catastrophe and I was exceedingly affected by it. Seldom have I read a book which excited my sympathies more. After Abby retired, I read some articles in the North American Review but went myself to bed early.