January 2.
Oh, what a grand time I had last night. I was the belle of the ball and Mr. Forsythe said he never saw me so radiant. I felt a little as if I ought not to allow him to say it, but I couldn’t really find a reason for criticising him for what many others said, and then, too, if I assume that he is doing wrong, when he may never have thought of it, I shall spoil all my chances for doing good. I know I did look my best, for that clinging black crepe gown is most becoming. I wonder how Nell is progressing with her affair. Somehow she doesn’t seem to me to be looking very happy.