Morning fine although accompanied by an East wind. I rode to Quincy for the purpose of settling with Carr by his own request. But he was not ready and I lost my ride. The day was more cheerful and I therefore enjoyed it better. Looked over the garden and gave the necessary directions. Returned to dinner. My horse was not very well and I was somewhat delayed.
Afternoon finished Beechey and read Hypsypile to Jason being the sixth of Ovid’s Epistles. There is too much sameness in them. All the ideas are prettily turned, most of them are feminine and appropriate, several quite pathetic but there is vastly little variety.
Evening, went to Mrs. Gorhams. A small party, very dull. Took refuge in Whist. Miss Edgeworth sneers at cards, but after all, if parties must be endured from civility why take away things which relieve the tedium. Home at ten.