Returned to town earlier than usual by way of showing my resolution. The day was exceedingly fine and my ride was tolerably pleasant. I forgot yesterday to mention the fact of my brother John’s being a Father, announced to me in a letter from my Mother, received yesterday.1
His wife was delivered of a daughter on Tuesday last, and this advances my Parents one generation into existence. I am glad of it upon all accounts, principally on my Mother’s, who will again have something in which to take an interest.
Morning engaged in copying my unfortunate letter to Mr. Brooks which he returned to me. How it could have been so misconceived, I am at a loss to understand, but must lay it to the extreme sensitiveness which exists upon the subject which it discusses. My course in this regard is a difficult one. Mr. Brooks conversed with me generally this morning, informed me that he had abandoned the idea of building a house for Abby and wished to purchase one, that he should be on the look out, but that in consequence, he should be unable to fix any time for the marriage, which is as much as to say that it must remain a contingency. But his manner and his language were so kind, that I could not press him further than he would go although I understand it to be absolutely necessary, as he is given to delay. I had not the heart to do it, and though aware that I was losing all the ground gained by my argument last evening, and subjected myself to another scene of a similar kind, yet I preferred doing so to seeming unhandsomely importunate. The day went off rapidly and I passed it pretty usefully though tormented with a head ache which at last disabled me from any further reading in the evening. It is a bad omen, for it bids fair to be a repetition of my evil days of last winter.