This morning we bid Goodbye to Hanger Hill. Our tarry has been one of pleasure and pain to such an extent that I confess to rather a predominating sense of relief on getting away. It would be even greater could I look forward to a quiet transfer to a home in London. This is however out of the question. It is now settled that the ladies are to go to Italy for the winter, and after that is pending the still indefinite continuance of myself in Europe. My sons with young Forbes made their way to the same destination by a circuit of railway from Acton; and I went to town, where I passed the day, and joined Mr Sturgis and the young party at the Station of the South Western railway at a little after five o’clock. The Servants however remain at Ealing until Tuesday. The day was cloudy and cold, with steady frost. The Steamer from America brings news on the whole favorable. I suppose it will give me an answer to my application for relief. Going to Walton however delays the reception of it. We found ourselves all assembled at dinner under Mr Sturgis’s hospitable roof. Nobody there excepting Colonel Hawley, and Miss Russell outside of the two families and Forbes. This owing to the severe illness of young Henry Sturgis who is prostrated though not in absolute danger. The evening was therefore very quiet.