Diary by E.B.B.

Unwell still. I could not do more than write a few lines—no! more than few! of the prologue. Miss Glasco must wait for tomorrow. No letter!

Finished the prologue.[1] Read it to Bummy & Papa—& both of them pleased. Sent it off by Bro to Miss G—& both of them pleased. I am pleased besides: and am a great deal better.

Gent took Bummy’ final to Miss Steers today; & a note full of addenda to my note yesterday, to Mrs. Boyd. He has come back. As she was not at home, there is of course, no answer. And no letter for me by the post!! It is clear that Mr. Boyd did not, & does not, intend to write to me,...

Sent my note to Mrs. Boyd. What will be thought of it?— Not, I hope, that I was out of humour when I wrote it. I am more, much more angry with myself than with Mr. Boyd. He has professed too much—& I have expected too much. We are both in fault: but my fault is the worst, because it has been...

I have been to R C. The fog made Bummy protest at first against my going; & then the rain made me resign myself to its effects. But the rain cleared away,—& the clearing away of the fog seemed to be the future in rus: so Arabel & I set off to the Wyche. She drove of course,—& we left the...

I suppose I must go on here with my diary,—as I cant get another book.[1]

Bummy has proposed calling at the Bartons, & going early that we may be able to drive somewhere else afterwards. Where will the somewhere else be? I would like to go to the Wyche,—& not for the sake of the Wyche.

I fancied last night that I heard Papa whisper to Occyta a proposal about taking or sending him & everybody to Worcester. All fancy!—

I have been to R C. Bummy & Henrietta almost disinclined me from thinking of it; but at last I put on all my brass, & went into the dining room to ask Papa for some silver. No objection from him! Henry drove, & Sette & I were driven. Got to R C at about half past twelve, or a little before: &...

Finished & sent my note to Mr. Boyd.[1] It thanked him for his invitation,—& spoke of his letter being “a black swan”[2]—& spoke of Mr. Bulteel[3] & Mr. Irving, & the epigram on Lady M[argaret] C[ocks].

Papa has made today another holiday. Out of spirits this morning—& feeling disinclined to read Æschylus or do anything in the way of Greek. Prayed for help from God: and He in answer to prayer, has often made me happy when all other resources seemed shut against me. Surely I shd. trust Him.

Sent away my poem to the Times, this morning.[1]

…> wonder if I shall have a pleasant—a happy visit. Better not to hope it—

Arabel & I off at half past eight or before. A clear cold morning. It is clear that it was cold!— We drove along the upper road by Steers’s Hotel. Splendid view; but I doubt whether the poney approved of it as much as we did.

…> see my mouth—(Quœre were there gass lights round my mouth?—) & she told Mr. Boyd, it was painful to look at it. It indicated intense feeling, & deep suffering!— A great deal of feeling is expressed also in Arabel’s countenance. Mr. Boyd’s head is “very intellectual”.[1]

Finished the Eumenides. The choruses are in Æschylus’s best manner: but the conception of Orestes’ trial, is more Lucianic than sublime.[1] So Arabel is not coming home. A bore. I dont know what in the world to do without her,—& the most provoking part of the business is, that I dare say...

Read the 7th. Olympic ode—about Agesias, & Rhodes.[1] There are very fine things in it, & it deserves to be written in gold, as it once was. Bro & Arabel came home. Very glad of it. B & H walked to the B[artons] for A. I walked by myself, & reveried.

Will there be a letter today?—

How disappointed I am. H has been into my room to say that B is very adverse, & thinks me very unreasonable. I think her very unkind!— Well!—I wont go; & how much disappointed I am, I cant say; and yet perhaps after all, if I had gone, I might have been pained by something: Finished...

In Mr. Boyd’s room before breakfast, & reading. Read until twelve; & then he proposed walking out. It was a surprise to me when he asked me to walk with him,—and a pleasure! Up & down the garden for half an hour!—

I lay awake last night listening to the rain, & hoping that it wd. rain on. But it did not!—a fine morning.

Wrote a very kind letter to Mr. Boyd, expressive of my regard for him, & the happiness I had in being with him.[1]

Going on with my translation which I have just finished. I have written as hard & fast as I cd. write,—& therefore had no time for sentencerounding & polishing. In two days more I cd. accomplish that: & then my verison wd. not be a very bad one—tho’ I says it as should’nt. Mr. Boyd meant...

Finished my translation quite, & sent off my letter to Mr. Boyd. I think that the late puzzling passages now puzzle me no more—except the μικρον μεν υστερον οΨει[1]—& just as I was going to consider that, a letter from Malvern came which deranged me altogether. The...

…> a very beautiful & powerful one: & afterwards communicated them to Mrs. Boyd. He agreed to by far the greater number; & asked me to visit him again next Thursday or Friday or Saturday, to finish my criticisms. But I am not to mention at home his reason for wishing to see me then: for fear...