The election was not settled till late last night, and they say the Republicans are still disputing the returns--and they feared riots in New York. I must say they seem wonderfully quiet, and I slept till half-past eight this morning, longer than for weeks past. To-day's papers announce Lord Londonderry's death and Mr. Fawcett's. How many people one is interested in have died since we left England in August! _Friday, 9th_.--Mr. Baillie Hamilton took Dick and me to, hear his organ "_vocalian_," at a church, it was a _walk_ for me, and the wind was very cold and strong, church very hot, and so I caught cold. I should die of some lung complaint if I remained here long! We started for Long Island about three, crossing in a ferry and then by rail, and found on reaching the station that Mr. Jones and Miss Miller were unhappy about us, as they could not find us in the train. Carriages were waiting and we reached Unqua in twenty minutes. A good sized house (and my bedroom quite splendid) on a bit of grass land, with stumpy trees scattered anyhow, opposite and close to South Oyster Bay,--which is divided from the Atlantic by a narrow strip of sand, back premises in full view, with chickens and turkeys everywhere in full possession! _All_ the establishment awaited out arrival, I think, in the hall, including two smart waiters come for the auspicious occasion. Mrs. and Miss Jones (her sister), and a Miss Jones (niece) with her father who is a widower and lives there, and Col. Jones a grass widower whose wife lives in Paris. At dinner I appeared as smart as I could, and I think made a sensation, judging by the approving looks and smiles cast upon me! Nearly all the neighbours are Jones's or Loyd Jones's, and some of them dined.