Wednesday Oct 19th.
Annie & I slept together last night, & she described to me enough of the state of her mind while she was at Stanwell, for me to feel confirmed in my opinion about the happiness of certain chains being broken. She exacted my secresy towards Mrs. Boyd, — therefore I cd. console her only generally. I did not sleep well last night, & am not well this morning. Was in Mr. Boyd’s room a little after nine. Nervous & out of spirits; so that during several hours of the day, I cd. scarcely keep my eyes clear from tears!— Read some of Gregory to Mr. Boyd. He was fancied to be cool in his manner to me; & there were other things which made me uncomfortable.
Miss Bordman gave him a Septuagint, which I think she received from her Father for the purpose. Miss Boyd said something about it when I was in the room,—& he seemed uncomfortable & observed “we will talk of that another time”. He evidently did not wish me to know of it[.] Why?-- Mrs. Boyd told me of it afterwards. Why did Miss Bordman give it to him? I wish she had not done so. I[1] had intended to do it: & besides---
Perhaps it is wrong in me to feel as much annoyed as I really do. I am of an intolerably exclusive disposition; & yet I wish some other people were like me!---
Mr. Boyd went out to walk twice today. That annoyed me too a little, tho’ he did not stay long. Afterwards my spirits came back again while I was sitting with him;—& when it grew darker & darker, they were still more reinforced. “Do you think they will not come for you?” He seemed anxious that they shd. not!—
At last the darkness grew so palpable, that we had a candle & opened Gregory again—when, lo!—a note from Bummy dated from the Wyche! They were afraid of coming down to me; but I might either go to them, or they wd. come again for me tomorrow. “Tomorrow” Mr. Boyd urged eagerly, if not anxiously. “Tomorrow,” said my inclinations. “Tomorrow” said my pen. Mr. Boyd & I had a happy evening again. A good deal of proing & contraing about whether I shd. wait until he went to bed before hearing Miss Boyd’s story. She is like the Princess Scheherazade, but were she the Princess herself, I wd. not leave Mr. Boyd to go to her. So he yielded, and after all Her Royal Highness told no story, even after he had gone to bed.
1. Underscored twice.
