9th January 1826 

Mrs Jericho from No. 4 visited the Hathersages yesterday afternoon. She is now telling all and sundry that the house is kept like a morgue – we have heard all this from Skillet. The old lady never laughs nor smiles; keeps all the curtains shut, as she cannot abide daylight; and refuses to have a decent fire in the hearth. The niece, meanwhile, called Selena, is paler than a ghost and far less agreeable; the only servant is a decrepit old man named Appledore. Skillet said that Mrs Hathersage is probably a female miser and she should not be at all surprised if there was a pot of gold buried under the floorboards. Mama said that she ought not to repeat such awful gossip, and then went to tell Mrs Fitzharris.

[note to self: check our floorboards, in case of previous misers] 

There is still nothing from G. Forsythe. Perhaps someone has told him about all our awful goings-on. I should not be half surprised.