Cedars ― day.

Packed, & sent off the Masada. ―

Cold ― frost again: as hard as ever.

No letters ― no papers: ― no nothing.

Cleaned & shaved the Cedars. ―

But I could not work. Lunched at 3, & at 4 walked ― o Lord! what bitter cold! ― by Weybridge & back.

Ἐγευμάτισα μονος, ― καὶ τώρα δὲν εἶναι ἄλλομονον Miss Howard ἐδῶ.1

Wrote to poor dear Lady Bethell, Emma Parkyns & Emily Tennyson.

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

  1. I dined alone ― and now there is no one else here but Miss Howard (NB). [↩]