Monday.—­I went to Miss C.’s (the dressmaker) again to-day, and found her much out of health, and about reducing her business and moving.  One of the old sisters had been reading Stepping Heavenward, and almost ate me up.  I got a pleasant word about it last night, from Mrs. General Upton, who has just died at Nassau.  I have seen Mrs. B. to-day; she did not open her eyes, but besought me to pray for her release.  She can’t last long.  The boys are off rolling hoop again, and M. is out walking with Ida.  Papa informed me last night that I had got a very pretty bonnet.  The bonnets now consist of a little fuss and a good many flowers.  Papa has gone to Dorset, and has had a splendid day for his journey.

Thursday, May 12th.—­Yesterday Miss ——­ came to tell me about the killing of her brother on the railroad, and to cry her very heart out on my shoulder.  In the midst of it came a note from Lizzy B., saying her mother had just dropped away.  I called there early this morning.  We then went to the Park with your uncle and aunt; after which they left and I rushed out to get cap and collar to wear at Mrs. ——­’s dinner.  I got back in time to go to the funeral at four P.M.  Dr. Murray made an excellent, appreciative address; papa then read extracts from a paper of mine (things she had said), the prayer followed, and then her sons sang a hymn. [7] I came home tired and laid me down to rest; at half-past six it popped into my head that I was not dressed, and I did it speedily.  We supposed we were only to meet the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. ——­, of Brooklyn, but, lo! a lot of people in full dress.  We had a regular state dinner, course after course.  Dr. ——­ sat next me and made himself very agreeable, except when he said I was the most subtle satirist he ever met (I did run him a little).  Mrs. ——­ is a picture.  She had a way of looking at me through her eyeglass till she put me out of countenance, and then smiling in a sweet, satisfied manner, and laying down her glass.  We came home as soon as the gentlemen left the table, and got here just as the clock was striking twelve.

Friday.—­We began this day by going at ten A.M. to the funeral of Mrs. W.’s poor little baby, and the first words papa read, “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting,” etc., explained his and my state of mind after last night’s dissipation.  He made a very touching address.  Later in the day we went out to see Miss ——­, as we had promised to do.  We went through the Park, lingered there a while, and then went on and made a long call.  When we rose to come away, she said she never let people go away without lunch and made us go down to the following:  buns, three kinds of cake, pies, doughnuts, cheese, lemonade, apples, oranges, pine-apples, a soup tureen of strawberries, a quart of cream, two custard puddings, one hot and one cold, home-made wine, cold corned beef, cold roast beef, and for aught I know 40 other things.  We came away awfully tired, and papa complained of want of appetite at dinner!!  Good-bye, dearie.  I forgot to tell you the boys have got a dog.  He came of his own accord and has made them very happy.  We haven’t let papa see him, you may depend.