Sunday, 17th February, 1867

A lovely day. Am sorry I cannot attend Church. Pigeo would be less lonely to remain at home without me the first Sunday after Nan’s departure, so I concluded to remain and let her and Mollie go with Bill. They all went to Jerusalem and dined at Mt. Hope. I didn’t think it right that Pigeo should pass Zion, but young people think differently from old. I spent the day pleasantly reading and walking about and thinking all the while of the many changes that have taken place just in the few years of my short period of existence. Tom cooked dinner. I looked for the children to dinner, but still I told them if they wished to spend the day out to do so. It was sometime after twilight when they returned. I had been walking all about by moonlight and enjoying having calm serenity of the hour and just coming in and found Mr. Cooke in the front porch. Said he had been knocking some time. There was not a living human in the house. Said it was the first time he had ever seen Woodbury entirely deserted. He remained till the children came and left at eleven. Mollie and I went down and fixed supper on the waiter and called to Bill to take it in the parlor. All passed off pleasantly. I am alone in my chamber at night since Nan left. Sleep quietly. Am unwilling that anyone should take her place till she returns. Pigeo and Mollie sleep upstairs. I love solitude, love to be alone at times and think on bygone days and live over the past, and almost imagine I am realizing many of the halcyon days, even from my earliest childhood when surrounded by brothers and sisters and the kindest of parents, so indulgent to my every wish.

“Sweet solitude to thy dear shades I fly,
And seek that calm, the world can never bestow,
And on the breeze which softly murmurs by,
My soul ascends and leaves the world below,
Heart soothing solitude, reflectious friend,
In thy lone wilds, O! may I spend my days,
And when the vexing cares of life shall end,
May some more skillful notary sing thy praise.”