Wrote a letter to my Mother in the morning1
which by reason of the heat and dearth of subject, consumed almost all of it. Not
having received any letters from her lately, I am fearful something is the matter.
Rode out at one o’clock with George to Medford to dine. Found Mr. Everett and Wadsworth2
who with the family made up the number at dinner. Abby was much hurt with my absenting
myself on Thursday and treated me a little coldly. We had an explanation afterwards
and I regretted the effects of a foolish pride. George went away after tea and we
passed the evening in Conversation.