Saturday. Septr. 3d.
I wish I were going to Malvern again today!— Well! Henrietta came up stairs to propose it,—to propose that we shd. have our dinner on the hills. But when Bummy was consulted, I suppose a veto or at least a nolo was given. I wd. willingly go down to ask Bummy over again: but my motives will be apprehended— I shall be accused of thinking twice of Mr. Boyd & once of the hills. Guilty!
It is provoking of Arabel, to refuse to say one word on the subject to Bummy. She might have done it. If we go or not, I will at any rate, send Eaton’s catalogue to Mr. Boyd: because I promised it. There is the dinner bell— I hope something favourable may be said at dinner, for I shd. certainly like to lay claim to scold the third.
Will there be any letters? I hope not!— No letters.
I wrote to Eaton today to sacrifice my Origen[1] which I had ordered there, & to beg him to sent Dawes instead, & immediately.
Pro & conning about going to the Wyche. My opinion of course pro. At last Henrietta A & I agreed to go, that I might run down with the catalogue to Mr. Boyd’s, whereupon Bummy changed her mind & agreed to go too. But the sight of my parcel did no good— “She wd. not have gone with us, had she for a moment thought that I meant to visit Mr. Boyd; & that I seemed never to go to the Whyche, without meaning to visit him”. So I acted Serena on the occasion,[2] & promised not to mean to visit him, but to send down my parcel instead of taking it. It was tantalizing to see him in the road, & to remain on the walk, which I did & was good humoured besides. We walked past Essingtons’s, & then I grew tired & proposed making a session of it until they were tired. They walked on to the well house, while I amused myself by vanishing. Vanished into the fern, just above the ash seat, & was discovered by my pocket handkerchief only. I wish Desdemona & I had kept our handkerchiefs in our pockets.
Got home at eight in the starlight, after spending a most lovely evening amidst most exquisite scenery. But I was tired, wretchedly tired, & had to go to bed prematurely to save myself from being ill. Slept uncomfortably. Dreamt of Mr. Boyd, & that he was going to have the walls of his room painted after the manner of a cathedral window.
1. One of the most prolific writers and distinguished theologians of the ancient church (ca. 185–ca. 254).
2. In his poem “Laus Serenae”, Claudian (ca. 370–ca. 410) tells how Serena, the wife of Stilicho, warns him from afar of a conspiracy against him, by sending letters and messages (LCL–CL; II, 256–257, lines 232–236).