was the
willinger of this occasion to see whether he would deny me or no, which
he would I believe had he been at open defyance against me. Being not a
little pleased with all this, though I yet see my Lord is not right yet,
I thanked his Lordship and parted with him in White Hall. I back to my
Lord's, and there took up W. Howe in a coach, and carried him as far as
the Half Moone, and there set him down. By the way, talking of my Lord,
who is come another and a better man than he was lately, and God be
praised for it, and he says that I shall find my Lord as he used to be
to me, of which I have good hopes, but I shall beware of him, I mean W.
Howe, how I trust him, for I perceive he is not so discreet as I took
him for, for he has told Captain Ferrers (as Mr. Moore tells me) of my
letter to my Lord, which troubles me, for fear my Lord should think that
I might have told him. So called with my coach at my wife's brother's
lodging, but she was gone newly in a coach homewards, and so I drove
hard and overtook her at Temple Bar, and there paid off mine, and went
home with her in her coach. She tells me how there is a sad house among
her friends. Her brother's wife proves very unquiet, and so her mother
is, gone back to be with her husband and leave the young couple to
themselves, and great trouble, and I fear great want, will be among
them, I pray keep me from being troubled with them. At home to put on my
gowne and to my office, and there set down this day's Journall, and by
and by comes Mrs. Owen, Captain Allen's daughter, and causes me to stay
while the papers relating to her husband's place, bought of his father,
be copied out because of her going by this morning's tide home to
Chatham. Which vexes me, but there is no help for it. I home to supper
while a young [man] that she brought with her did copy out the things,
and then I to the office again and dispatched her, and so home to bed.

22nd. Up and there comes my she cozen Angier, of Cambridge, to me to
speak about her son. But though I love them, and have reason so to do,
yet, Lord! to consider how cold I am to speak to her, for fear of giving
her too much hopes of expecting either money or anything else from me
besides my care of her son. I let her go without drinking, though that
was against my will, being forced to hasten to the office, where we sat
all the morning, and at noon I to Sir R. Ford's, where Sir R. Browne (a
dull but it seems upon action a hot man), and