My life is becoming monotonous and eventless. This would be very satisfactory to me if it were not that in the family there is more of ailing and discomfort than has been experienced during all the other portion of our residence, put together. My private letters home were written and all put up in good season—so that I walked out with Mary, being her first experiment since her illness, for nearly and hour, in the gardens of the square. Afterwards, a longer walk alone. Quiet evening. Continued Pepys.