Saturday. July 2d.
Got up this morning, tired thro’ & thro’. The dreams I had last night about my teeth, were ineffectual in refreshing me altogether. While Stormy & Georgie were reading Greek with me, a cry from Henry called my attention to his figure suspended by the hands from the roof of the dairy. I called out to him to take care; & the boys, to take courage. I was in a fright; & they, in a rage. I sent them down to carry the ladder to him, for which he was asking them. Stormie got upon the roof, & dragged him up, poor fellow, by the arms. How frightened I was!
But how yet more frightened, when the horse’s hoofs in the yard announced the arrival of the post. No letters!!! How very extraordinary!— Oh if I knew when & how this uncertainty is to end ……. I might be yet more uncomfortable perhaps than I am. Well! I shall know soon! Bummy has not said one word about her “proposal” for today. I think, tired as I am, I could go to Malvern; if there, she meant to go. No letter from Malvern again today. It wd. be well for me if I could think of some things & persons, as little as I am thought of. I must go & read Pindar. I have not read a line of him, these two days.
Did not read Pindar after all—but read.
I wonder why Eaton does not write. Impatient. Henrietta’s protegèes[1] transferred from our gate to a lodging near the wyche on the poney. Maddox[2] came.
1. The Irishwoman and her invalid daughter.
2. Mary Maddox, who acted as dressmaker and seamstress for the Barretts.