April, Friday 1, 1864
A gloomy day, raining, cold, and dreary. I have managed to exist, have not done much sewing. I came to my room after dinner, and spent the evening reading the Caxton’s—although quite an old book, I have never read it. I began with high expectations, and recommendations, as Bulwer’s best—must confess I was greatly disapointed . I think ‘What will he do with it ?’ is one of the best novels I ever read—with that as my last remembrance of Bulwer, it would scarce be expected I could admire old Mr. Caxton’s eccentric disposition, or Ladie Caxton’s great lack of spirit, through fear of her liege lord—Beulah was my companion—I could not listen to her distressed whine, unfastened her chain, she went out as I came to my room after tea, and has not yet returned. I fear they will all get into trouble, poor Beulah, she is my best friend, but I do not think she has many friends outside of my own little room. Laura and Bettie said a very good lesson—Laura and Tippie Dora both asleep. No late news from Forrest. I am so lonely, how long oh! Lord, how long must I wait—