Pretty hard at work all the morning in preparation for the despatch of the bag one day in advance, on account of Christmas coming tomorrow. We had agreed to spend it at Mr Sturgis’s at Walton, as we have done each of the preceding ones. The ladies were526 ready and went at half past three o’clock, but I could not get my labour accomplished until later. A visit from Mr McCulllagh Torrens likewise detained me. I walked to the Station in the Waterston road, and likewise walked from the Walton Station to Mount Felix. Here I found the ladies and Brooks already established. The family of Mr Sturgis as usual. The inevitable Colonel Hawley, and Major Russell Sturgis, the eldest son by a former marriage, who has come with three little children on a visit of a few months. He is a widower, and has served for nine months in the war. The only other strangers are Miss Rose and a youth named Forbes. Of course the disdain predominated. I had some conversation with Major Sturgis about his experience in North Carolina. But he had not much to report, as the rebels never had stood much. He spoke of the adverse sentiment here and of the satisfaction it gave him to talk with me. Doubtless an allusion to his father’s extraordinary course. Were there no other reason than this, I could never feel at home within these walls. Mr Sturgis gave me a very unfavourable account of the condition of Mr Bates. I feared as much from his difficulty of breathing when I saw him last.