This day I wrote my private letters and completed them pretty early. This was well as I had one or two interruptions which might have destroyed me under other circumstances. The usual number of application from consuls and a number of newspapers from America, further absorbed the time. I know not why but my spirits and a little under depression. I can conjecture no cause unless it be the prospect of this noisy and bustling season. I took a walk in the park and up Primrose hill. The air was easterly and rather chill, and though apparently clear there was heavy fog resting to the south of the town. After dinner I read a little of Kinglake, and then we went to a ball at Lady Townshed’s. Here was much the same appearance I observed last evening. No more acquaintances. I met Mr Billé, my colleague from Denmark, whom I found much in my situation. Yet he has been here nearly twice as long as I have. He disappears however in a few moments. I remained until midnight and then left the ladies, and walked home from Park Lane.362