The tears starting. Well, said I, if the estate was sold perhaps Mr Abbott would make a bid and, perhaps, I should bear the thing with as much composure as I could be expected. I should run away. Poor A- was in good humour – there was no fault of hers, but how different she from me? As least I hope so – her income well managed would set all right but I cannot count upon anything. She has not heart to say – well never mind, we can manage.