As our hosts seemed to desire the stay of some of our party for another day, Mrs Adams and Henry concluded to remain with the Ouseleys, whilst my daughter Mary accompanied me in the carriage to town. She was coming in to meet a young friend about to pay her a visit. For me I must candidly confess that no other person’s house has so much attraction to me as my own. I have got to a time of life when the attractions of society which were never great have changed into burdens, and the attempt to be agreeable is oppressive. Not that I entertain any other feelings than those of good will to all the world. I have none of the cynic in my disposition. My own wish is merely to be silent when I have nothing to say, and not to be compelled to make conversation on topics which do not interest me. On my return I found myself in the midst of despatches and letters, which occupied me some time, and newspapers which consumed more. The accounts are all much better, and I allowed my spirits to get into rather better condition about the future—And yet not without distrust. For after all the news is only enough to neutralize what has gone before, and leaves us with hope not unmixed with fear. I took a walk—and after dinner was engaged in bringing up the arrears of my Diary.