BOLTON, Friday, August 12th, 1864.
—Fine warm day ; grey but not hazy. It is delightful to me seeing this place again : I remember some of the moors by name. Father-in-law, brother-in-law, and husband all went off for the 1st day's grouse shooting. After writing to M., sitting a little in the garden, and receiving with Lou a visit from the Robinsons, she and I drove in the pony-carriage to Brass Castle and had luncheon with the shooters, prostrate grouse at our feet. Very nice. We dawdled a little among the blossoming ling before coming home ; then went up the terrace ; tea and talk, and I read Edinburgh Review. About 7½ home they came, my Fred having shot the most birds, viz. 35½ brace : Cavendish looked dejected, having only killed 20 brace.
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