Wet. Off by 8. Coach to Yarmouth ― steamer ― rail to town by 3.

It is always sad to leave Emily T. & indeed all of them ― & I was all worry ― not reflecting on much of AT’s miseries. F.L. is certainly one of a million also.

At home.

LETTER FROM GIORGIO:

all well at Corfû ― this is indeed a great comfort.

Most horrible pouring rain, & that close weather like November. (Tho’ F.L. says the streets never dry there, & do now if it don’t rain.) Calls, on Lady Hunter, ― stouter, & kind, & foolish: ― Mrs. Meade: both unpleasantly reminding me of their vulgar silly father “old Bo.” Sayers ― all out: ― Bethells ― ditto. Lady Coltman ― much older ― & praise: ― Lady [Northerlie] then: ― Sir A. Calcott’s picture ― how weak! ― Home ― meeting [Moynam]― & Mr. Louis. ― Dressed ― & cab to Crakes ― A curate of Harness’s, (Langhorne ―) Edward Crake, & Mrs. Vandeleur. ― Dinner rather pleasant though sad, for good Mr. C. is far weaker. ― Afterwards, the result of my singing A.T.’s songs was intensely absurd after last night.

RAIN.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]