Tuesday, Septr. 6.
Dear Minny is much better.
I have been unwell all the morning. Nota bene, never eat new honey. Lay in bed nearly all day, in consequence of that nota bene not having been noted yesterday.
A letter form Papa to Henrietta: and—thank God for it,—a happy satisfactory letter. He is perfectly recovered from the effects of his late attack, & is in good spirits, & does not talk of returning. Bummy is in hopes that he may be “doing something”; indeed she feels “sure that he must be doing something.” I wont—I dare not trust myself to, hope for more than a respite!—
Perdidi diem[1]—if reading Goldoni’s Il cavaliere e la Dama[2] does not redeem it, which I suspect it does not!— Mind! The honey is to have the blame of my doing what Titus did!—
1. “I have lost a day.”
2. Comedy first performed in 1749.
