I surely thought I would write a few lines Sunday, but “first, this and then that” prevented—Henrietta has just commenced fixing my hair for the night and I will devote the few moments before retiring to my journal. Sunday morning went to Church, was so warm had to come out—in the afternoon, I had just undressed for an evening nap when Mr Tucker came up bringing a dispatch from Cousin John, saying Coz and he were there, on their way to Florida, to send Andrew to meet them at Weldon—did not say why they were going, but we all thought, nothing except the dangerous sickness of Uncle Noah could take them, at this season—After ten Mr Tucker came up again, and spent the evening—This morning I rode up to the school with the children, and then after a little shopping, and some ice cream for a cooling, came home—spent the rest of the day ^morning^ working—after dinner I had just gone to bed, for an evening nap, when Mr Tucker came bringing a dispatch, saying Uncle Noah was a great deal better, mind wandering less—and if able would start for New York on the 17th—I am so sorry Cousin John and Cousin have gone South at this season—They are in the hands of an all seeing and all merciful God, and I pray he ^may^ protect them from all harm and danger—May he in wisdom, and mercy spare her Father to her for many long years to come—After Mr Tucker left—we had a very hard rain, which continued all the evening—what a splendid nap I did take. It is quite cloudy yet, and I would not be astonished if we had more rain to-morrow—I was fated, to be again disappointed last night, no letter still—I cannot think it unkind, for I know there has been a letter written unless sickness prevented—and I cannot give up to that thought—I feel sad enough as it is—Received a nice letter from Uncle Weddell last night—Mother one from Aunt Mary Clark, & Grandmama one from Cousin, written in high spirits, speaking of joining us at Shocco—I hope we will receive a few lines from her written from Phil—in the morning—it was too rainy for Fountain to go to the office—and oh! How I hope I will receive one—if I am again disappointed I will try and bear it, thinking the letter to be miscarried—and not expect one in some time—Mother has called me once or twice to come to bed, and as I am sleeping in her room at present, I must go—