LONDON, Friday, July 11th, 1862.
—Last London day! This is a joyful reflection; and yet, how odd it is! I believe I never say "the last" of anything without an indefinable "serrement de coeur." It must be the secret feeling of the uncertainty of things — the dread of all that may happen before next time, and above all, the shrinking from that pathetic possibility of Never More.
Read 170 p. of Alison. Had luncheon in St. St., whence kind Mrs. Robartes lifted At. C. and me in her carriage to Lord's for the Eton and Harrow match. We saw the Harrow 1st innings and most of the Eton 2nd. Scores: Eton 1st innings 96. Harrow 1st inn. 56. Eton 2nd inn. 170, with 2 wickets to go down. From which the result may be guessed pretty well! Old Nevy has just got into the 11; he got 6 in the 1st inn. not out. The ground was crowded — lots of fashionable people. Saw Lord Lorne and Lord Archibald Campbell, pretty fair boys on ponies. Dined with Papa at Ld. George Quin's, wherewith Ends My London Gaieties. Have been to 14 balls, 15 parties, 5 dinners.
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