[Manchester—Sunday, 20 July 1873]

Sunday July 20. We are alone and have been now for ten days. This seems strange but it gives dear J. time for his work and gives me time also to steady myself a little and I hope to work also. Did not stir from the house until the afternoon of yesterday—the rain poured—then however we made up by a long walk to the village and about it—taking farewell of Miss Doria. She is staying with some friends of hers, queer English folk—Grel by name—he seems to be a hack-writer, they are good hardworking people evidently, have good children and believe in country life—he a trifle too much—he calls fishing “sport” and does not mind the writhings of the poor creatures he casts up for bait.

Today everything is waving in glorious sunshine.


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