At twelve last night, felt her on the amoroso. She thought me asleep, and I pretended to be so, till my fondness seemed to awake me – pressed and partly grubbled and held her near me but had on my drawers. In fact, I had as much kiss as possible without absolute contact – said I dared not be nearer – uncertain how she would make up her mind about [me] and afraid of attaching myself to her too much. Pressing and feeling her this morning – she let me look at her without seeming to care – in fact, I might do all I could and not do enough. I am older in these matters than I was twenty years ago. She seems bent on taking me but yet it is uncertain, for she says nothing quite positive. Tis well my care for her will not kill me whether she says, eventually, yes or no.