A recurrence of a sharp attack of rheumatism like that in January made me very uncomfortable all day. The American letters likewise brought intelligence of the death of my Wife’s sister Mrs Frothingham, which though not unexpected, gave me a sad feeling. She has always been one of our nearest and best friends, and her loss at our time of life can never be replaced. Her illness began just as we were about to leave America. When she came here on her way to Madeira I scarcely imagined she would hold out so long. Yet on the announcement I still felt rather surprised. Old Mr Quincy too has at last left us. A man of blameless life and useful energy in his sphere. I shall feel his absence too should I return to Quincy. The day was passed quietly— I went to Sotheby’s and examined the remainder of the coins of General Drummond. Quiet evening.