Friday. Oct 14.
Mr. C stayed all night. Before breakfast this morning, I was writing a letter to my dear Papa, which must go today. At breakfast, Miss Peyton’s poney arrived to enable Arabel to ride to Malvern. Very goodnatured in Miss Peyton!— Altho’ Mrs. Griffith did not actually offer me a seat in her carriage, I might have had it: nay, I might have squezzed [sic] my little body into our wheelbarrow, if Bummy had not been alone & Mr. Curzon here!— As it was, I was obliged to stay behind!—
Mr. Curzon remained here until nearly three. He is an excellent Christian & most amiable man: but in conversation, he is .. heavy. There is no denying that! Besides I cd. not help thinking now & then, of Mr. Boyd!--
B & I went out to walk; & into the garden, for the first time since that loss which must be a loss for ever.[1] I mean, Bummy’s first time—not mine. I have been there very often. Dearest B’s eyes had tears in them I am sure, tho’ they were turned away from me!—
They came home at 5, or past 5. Sette was quite heroic about his teeth, as he is about everything; & Henry rather cowardly, as he is about everything. Arabel called at Ruby Cottage, while Miss Peyton & Henrietta went on to Miss Steers’s. Very unkind of Henrietta not to call for one moment to see Annie after her four month’s absence! But I will say nothing. Arabel did not see Mr. Boyd. I wonder if he was disappointed at my not having gone. Henrietta says that he was not, & that I overrate his regard to me. No! I do not do that!— Mrs. Boyd has sent me a note by Arabel, to communicate Annie’s return of love for Mr. Biscoe. “Oh! that prophaned word.”!![2]
They are all to be here tomorrow, in the case of Miss Bordman being able to come. I hope she may; because if they do not come tomorrow, they are to do so on Monday—in which case I must stay at home to receive them, instead of visiting Mr. B.
1. The death of E.B.B.’s mother, Bummy’s sister, on 7 October 1828.
2. Possibly a reference to Shelley’s “One word is too often profaned / For me to profane it” (Posthumous Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley, London, 1824, p. 200).
