Morning occupied in reading before breakfast, and afterwards at the Office. Afternoon at Mrs. Frothingham’s to see Abby. Conversed with her upon many subjects. Mr. Webster arrived this evening with the body of his wife who died in New York on Tuesday last. I pity his situation much. Returned home and dressed to go to a party at Mrs. Francis’s House.1
Called for Abby. The ball was very handsome indeed but I got a good deal out of humour in the latter part of it. Abby’s indiscretions are provoking and yet I can see nothing to take up particularly as objectionable. After returning home in deep thought I did not retire until after twelve. It is a little strange that it is always so at parties. Perhaps I am foolish but I think it lucky for her that the young men here are not impudent or else she would feel much mortification, and I much trouble. For she undoubtedly lays herself open to this.