I drew up a note to Lord Russell and also sent a request for a conference. Some other arrears are likewise brought up before going out with Mrs Adams to the Archiepiscopal place of Lambeth. His daughter Mrs Wilson had issued127 cards for a garden party, but the day was so threatening that nobody was inclined to indulge al fresco. The numbers were not large for the size of the edifice. I met no acquaintances but the Bishop of London, Mr and Mrs Cardwell, and Mrs Darby Griffith. The library is a dark, chilly and gloomy place, but it contains a vast deal of curious historical matter connected with the organization of the church of England. It did not look as if any body ever made use of it now. From here we went through passages lined with portraits of past Archbishops until we got tot he private chapel, and from there to the usual reception rooms. Then into the grounds which are quite spacious considering that we are in the midst of the most populous city in Christendom. It was no day to enjoy them however, for the sky looked like lead and the earth was saturated with water. The white dresses of the few ladies who ventured looked incongruously and soon disappeared into the house again. After some refreshment we took our leave. The association with Lambeth are not altogether cheerful at best. The present preinect is amiable enough but he is old and feeble, so that it has no pleural frowns. In the evening Mrs Adams had her usual reception. Not quite so numerous as the preceding but well enough. Some talk with Mr Bright. I sent my second note to Lord Palmerston today.