Awoke this morning feeling quite well, but the idea of sickness has so pervaded me that I cannot get rid of the impression that I am sick. Morning with my Mother. My father came in and entered into conversation respecting houses in Boston which seemed to imply some overture to me. But I did not take it as such for it seemed to me indirect and his plan which related to Quincy’s house very absurd, if he applied it to me. This house rents for eight hundred and fifty dollars, altogether larger than I desire one.1
My Mother did not ride today. Wrote a letter to Abby.2
I feel a little put out at her writing as she does. It makes correspondence tame not to answer letters im•
mediately. Evening with my Mother. Johnson Hellen dined here and we talked politics as usual with him.