Monday, 11 August, 1828

Morning bespangled with swift moving clouds, yet it is quite agreeable. I have visited the bewitched lady today and have succeeded in dispelling from her mind the dreaded visitor. But though this is gone, her loquacity is extreme. Soon, however, it will have an end and be consigned to the silent tomb. Her thread of life is almost spun, and with what assurance she anticipates a speedy recovery. Pleasant illusion.