atford_: walked in the Garden, sat about two
hours under a butifull shade tree, and eat as many figs as we could. How
did we wish for our dear Polly, and think that was the only thing we
wanted to compleat our happiness!

We brought to _Chantilly_ Col. H. Lee's little Boy. He has stayed at
_Stratford_ since his Papa and Mama went to New York. I assure you he is
a very fine child. Dinner announced. Adieu.

Nancy is rather unwell this evening; she is a little fatigued with her
ride. Adieu. I must go and talk, to raise her spirits.

October 4.

To-day I have been busy making a cap. I don't think it clever, though I
have spent a good while about it. Nancy and myself have been locked up
stairs by ourselves all day. She is better to-day than she was
yesterday.

Oh, my Marcia, how hard is our fate! that we should be deprived of your
dear company, when it would compleat our Felicity--but such is the fate
of Mortals! We are never permitted to be perfectly happy. I suppose it
is right, else the Supreme Disposer of all things would not have
permitted it: we should perhaps have been more neglectful than we are of
our duty.

October 5.

Mr. Pinkard and a Mr. Lee came here to-day from the Fredericksburg
races. How sorry I was to hear "Republican" was beaten. I was really
interested in that race. Adieu. I must crape my hair for dinner.

It is a delightful evening. Nancy and myself are going to take a ride
out in the Chariot. Oh, my Polly, why are you not here to join us! Away
with such thoughts--they almost make me melloncholy. Nancy calls me.
Adieu again. I come! I come!

We are returned, and had a delightful ride, and a much more delightful
_tete-a-tete_. This Lee appears to be a hum-drum, disagreeable Creature.
Tea is ready, and I must bid you good-by.

October 6.

I wish, my Polly, you could see Mrs. Pinkard. You would be delighted
with her. She is, I think, among the finest Women I have seen; and is
thought very beautifull.

I have been very agreeably entertained this evening, reading a Novel
called _Malvern Dale_. It is something like _Evelina_, though not so
pretty.

I have a piece of advice to give you, which I have before urged--that
is, to read something improving. Books of instruction will be a thousand
times more pleasing [after a little while] than all the novels in the
World. I own myself, I am too fond of Novel-reading; but, by accustoming
myself to reading other Books, I have become less so, and