[Manchester—Thursday, 18 July 1872]
Thursday 18. Cold and mist—perhaps a storm. The days slip away so fast that I have to write them down to know where we are.
Jamie saw Longfellow at Nahant on Monday. He wonders we do not come to Nahant for the summer, yet if he could once know this he would never again wonder.
We took tea at Mrs Towne’s—as we came home a be-nighted steamer was blowing a whistle in the fog just off shore, and the light-house bell tolled all night.
