Another day of summer temperature. I found myself with little to do again. This bids fair to last the present week. I went out after settling the house accounts for the week, and writing a brief note or two, and executed various commissions in town. For some reason or other I felt more light hearted than for a long time back. And yet barring the removal of pressure from business I am not conscious of a single reason for the alteration. Things as yet look by no means more decidedly bright at home, though in some important financial respects they are much mended. I returned Mr Eddy’s visit, and found him much troubled by a fresh illness of his Wife, whom I found in the room apparently very unwell. From thence I went over to give a second sitting to Mr Küntse, in Newman Street. The atmosphere and the profound quiet of his studio made me drowsy again. Having given one hour to this, I took a walk with my daughter Mary. Evening alone Continued Whitelock’s book.