Monday, 14 January 1861
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.]
- I dined alone ― and now there is no one else here but Miss Howard (NB). [↩]