Thursday, October 4, 1832

 1832

October

Thursday 4

Fine morning Fahrenheit 63° at 6 and 64° or nearly at 6 35/.. –

Out at 6 35/.. – In and out till 7 – then with Dick arranging the turning of the new drain into the garden into the old sough – with Booth and his 2 men who began taking out the library passage window –

Breakfast with my father at 8 1/2. – My aunt seemed better –

At Lidgate in 1/2 hour at 10 and staid till John Priestley came at two. She started as difficulties the not living at Cliff Hill and my intimacy with the William Priestleys.  She should do as she liked about the former.  It was her self; it was person, not place, I cared for, and as soon as all was settled, my giving up the Priestleys was easy and natural.  This, said she, seemed reconciled and satisfied.  

I said I would listen to no difficulty but the pre-engagement of her own heart.  She declared it not engaged, and talked of letting the Ainsleys have Cliff Hill as if she had determined on being with me at Shibden, yielding to all my reasons in addition to the former ones.  I had said that if I survived her, I could no longer remain at Cliff Hill.

I had my arm on the back of the sofa.  She leaned on it, looked as if I might be affectionate, and it ended in her lying on my arm all the morning and my kissing her and she returning it with such a long, continued, passionate or nervous mumbling kiss, that we got on as far as we, by daylight mere kissing, could, I thinking to myself, well, this is rather more than I expected.  Of course she means to take [me].  Yet on pressing the hardness of my case in having to wait six months and begging for a less length of probation, she held out, saying her mind was quite unmade up and I must not hope too much for fear of disappointment. Yet she asked me to dine with her at five and stay all night.  I promised the former.  Very sorry could not do the latter while my father was unwell and my sister absent, though I see I shall get all I want of her person if I stay all night.

Back at five to dinner.  She had put on an evening gown and a sort of set-out dinner for me. I talked much of the highlands, etc. while the man was there.  Afterwards, drew near to each [other] and she sat on my knee and I did not spare kissing and pressing, she returning it as in the morning. Yet still I was not to hope too much.  She said I was infatuated.  When the novelty was over, I should not feel the same, and might not find her a companion for me.  I waived all this, fancying all her scruples were of this sort. 

On leaving the dining room, we sat most lovingly on the sofa. Thought her aunt would not live six months.  Said she had a fancy for Eugenie.  If we were not ready for her by January, we were to allow her something and retain her.  We were so affectionate, we let the lamp go out.  

Long continued kissing.  I prest her bosom then, then finding finding no resistance and the lamp being out, let my hand wander lower down gently getting to queer.  Still no resistance, so I whispered, surely she could care for me some little. Yes. Then gently whispered, she should break my heart if she left me.  She then said I should think her very cold (How the devil could I?), and it came out how that her affections had been engaged to one of the best of men, that they could not be transferred so soon, for had only been dead just three months, and she got to crying.  I begged a thousand pardons, etc. etc., declared it was only through ignorance that I had ever been so sanguine, etc. etc.  

And thinking a scene would then come beautifully from me, seemed in a paroxysm of stupid tho deeply sighing grief, and stifled tears, and declared myself hopeless,  Said my conduct, or rather my hoping, was madness and she had no longer any reason to fear.  My preparing for myself nothing but disappointment.  All this was very prettily done.  I, however, promised to see her tomorrow, and we parted in all the pathos due to the occasion.  I said little as I returned to poor John, musing on the curious scenes of today.  

Cold, thought I!  No sign of that.  More likely she will try what I can do for her before giving the answer, and I don’t think I can do enough.  She had said that if she once made up her mind, she thought herself as much as married to me for life.  Well, I may try her, or rather, let her try me and go what lengths the first night I sleep there.  She certainly gulled me, in that I never dreampt of her being the passionate little person I find her, spite of her calling herself cold.  Certainly I should never have ventured such lengths just yet without all the encouragement she gave me.  

I shall now turn sentimentally melancholy and put on all the air of romantic hopelessness.  If I do this well, I may turn her to pity or fight off, I see, good.  I scarce know what to make of her.  Is she maddish? I must mind what I say to her.  Be cautious.

Speaking of Miss Sophia Greenup, said Miss Duffin said, now kiss Sophia, love, and mentioned that I was to have brought her home, but her mother luckily did not like her being under obligation to me – Merely said it was Miss Hobart, now Lady Vere Cameron, I had with me at Hastings –

Hang it, this queer girl puzzles me.  She told me this morning of the weakness in her back, for which she uses Mr. Day’s ointment.  It was from making her walk too soon when an infant – I think a little spice of matrimony would do her good –

At Lidgate from 10 to 2 1/4 then at home in 1/2 hour – Saw my father and aunt, and with the workmen, and back in 1/2 hour at 5 to Lidgate to dinner –

Home in 1/2 hour at 10 1/2 – My father and aunt in bed – Just went in to the latter for a minute or 2 – then came upstairs and wrote the whole of the above of today till 11 40/.. –

Dick did drain into sough in the garden and finished the bit of walling up the walk begun yesterday – the plasterer washed the paint of my blue room and point the stucco outside – Charles and James Howarth painting outside for my father – Booth and 2 men and Murgatroyde at the library passage new window – William Green carting stones and soil for Dick – Got one load from Northowram –

Note today from the Halifax Philosophical Society to say there would be a meeting of the subscribers tomorrow – ‘The annual meeting of this society’ will take place tomorrow –

Miss Walker much troubled with anonymous letters.  Said she would get rid of all troubles of cousins or letters when with me.  She seemed quite persuaded of this,  I wonder what she will say to me tomorrow –

Very fine day – F 62° now at 12 tonight –

She shewed me letters about her cousin Edwards at Kinson, her giving him a thousand pounds on interest.  I advised five hundred and have done with it.

 

WYAS Finding Numbers SH:7/ML/E/15/0126 and SH:7/ML/E/15/0127