Slept well ― extremely ― but rose at 6.30 anxious about Fairbairn’s coming. But no Φαίρβαιrn came at all. So I wrote letter, & worried & fussed ― & looked out paper to mount for the imaginary prospective 240(!!!) drawings of 1865: ― & fussed & worried ― & read Bates’s Amazon ―― but the day ― ever fine ― wore away ― & no one called.
So, at 5 ― I walked straight on end to Gresham St. & there dined with poor Will N.
Allan is grown immensely tall ― an awkward, but quiet, & I think intelligent lad. I wish anything could be done for him. ―
Cab home ― by 11.
Found a letter from Fairbairn ― he comes tomorrow at noon: ― & a very nice letter from Wade-Browne. And 2/2 brace of Grouse from someone anonymous.
[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]