e fair what he had writ, and
my wife to read to me all the afternoon, till anon Mr. Gibson come, and
he and I to perfect it to my full mind, and so to supper and to bed, my
mind yet at disquiet that I cannot be informed how poor Deb. stands with
her mistress, but I fear she will put her away, and the truth is, though
it be much against my mind and to my trouble, yet I think that it will
be fit that she should be gone, for my wife's peace and mine, for she
cannot but be offended at the sight of her, my wife having conceived
this jealousy of me with reason, and therefore for that, and other
reasons of expense, it will be best for me to let her go, but I shall
love and pity her. This noon Mr. Povy sent his coach for my wife and I
to see, which we like mightily, and will endeavour to have him get us
just such another.

2nd. Up, and a cold morning, by water through bridge without a cloak,
and there to Mr. Wren at his chamber at White Hall, the first time of
his coming thither this year, the Duchess coming thither tonight, and
there he and I did read over my paper that I have with so much labour
drawn up about the several answers of the officers of this Office to the
Duke of York's reflections, and did debate a little what advice to
give the Duke of York when he comes to town upon it. Here come in
Lord Anglesy, and I perceive he makes nothing of this order for his
suspension, resolving to contend and to bring it to the Council on
Wednesday when the King is come to town to-morrow, and Mr. Wren do join
with him mightily in it, and do look upon the Duke of York as concerned
more in it than he. So to visit Creed at his chamber, but his wife not
come thither yet, nor do he tell me where she is, though she be in town,
at Stepney, at Atkins's. So to Mr. Povy's to talk about a coach, but
there I find my Lord Sandwich, and Peterborough, and Hinchingbroke,
Charles Harbord, and Sidney Montagu; and there I was stopped, and dined
mighty nobly at a good table, with one little dish at a time upon it,
but mighty merry. I was glad to see it: but sorry, methought, to see my
Lord have so little reason to be merry, and yet glad, for his sake, to
have him cheerful. After dinner up, and looked up and down the house,
and so to the cellar; and thence I slipt away, without taking leave, and
so to a few places about business, and among others to my bookseller's
in Duck Lane, and so home, where the house still full of dirt by
painters and others, and w