r, and having wrote a letter
for my wife to my Lady Sandwich to copy out to send this night's post,
I to the office, and wrote there myself several things, and so home to
supper and bed. My mind being troubled to think into what a temper of
neglect I have myself flung my wife into by my letting her learn to
dance, that it will require time to cure her of, and I fear her going
into the country will but make her worse; but only I do hope in the
meantime to spend my time well in my office, with more leisure than
while she is here. Hebden, to-day in the coach, did tell me how he is
vexed to see things at Court ordered as they are by nobody that attends
to business, but every man himself or his pleasures. He cries up my Lord
Ashley to be almost the only man that he sees to look after business;
and with that ease and mastery, that he wonders at him. He cries out
against the King's dealing so much with goldsmiths, and suffering
himself to have his purse kept and commanded by them. He tells me also
with what exact care and order the States of Holland's stores are kept
in their Yards, and every thing managed there by their builders
with such husbandry as is not imaginable; which I will endeavour to
understand further, if I can by any means learn.

7th (Lord's day). Whit Sunday. Lay long talking with my wife, sometimes
angry and ended pleased and hope to bring our matters to a better
posture in a little time, which God send. So up and to church, where Mr.
Mills preached, but, I know not how, I slept most of the sermon. Thence
home, and dined with my wife and Ashwell and after dinner discoursed
very pleasantly, and so I to church again in the afternoon, and, the
Scot preaching, again slept all the afternoon, and so home, and by and
by to Sir W. Batten's, to talk about business, where my Lady Batten
inveighed mightily against the German Princess, and I as high in the
defence of her wit and spirit, and glad that she is cleared at the
sessions. Thence to Sir W. Pen, who I found ill again of the gout, he
tells me that now Mr. Castle and Mrs. Martha Batten do own themselves to
be married, and have been this fortnight. Much good may it do him, for I
do not envy him his wife. So home, and there my wife and I had an angry
word or two upon discourse of our boy, compared with Sir W. Pen's boy
that he has now, whom I say is much prettier than ours and she the
contrary. It troubles me to see that every small thing is enough
now-a-days to brin