February 4th, 1763

Today was the christening of J´s son Timothy. Their first child and a boy. Mrs. P. is already her old self and accompanied us to the church. She is pride personified, but is nothing compared with my mother who almost exploded. Three of her children married, Patsy already having four children, even Violet has had the good sense of giving birth to one (after partying all year through in Town) and now Jeremiah. And a son. An heir to the estate. Father is happy. He even shed a tear or two, when J came down from P´s room announcing the birth of his boy. All the Porters in the church, watching the baby boy sleepily receiving his baptism. But one comment neither Patsy nor Mrs. P. could back off: 'Don´t worry, dearest Emy, you will have your own in no time!' - Ah! Thank you. As if I wish to...

But it wasn´t the end of it. Out of the church, the freezing cold could only calm me for some time. I met Harriet, dear Harriet, on my way back home (for I walked down the lane, instead of riding in the carriage). She´s getting married, of all people!!! - Did I miss anyething specific!? Well, when I was in Town, she met this wonderful gentleman, who´s a younger son, but with his own moderate income and they are to go to Clarington, his humble estate in Gloucestershire. So far away. Not from town, of course not, but Wortham is at the end of the world! - What shall I do without my best friend?


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