And this, very rarely varied by a visit from some one, is the tenor of my daily life--and a very pleasant one indeed, were it not for apprehensions about Lady S. and poor Johnnie Hugh. The former will, I think, do well--for the latter--I fear--I fear-- _April_ 2.--I am in a wayward mood this morning. I received yesterday the last proof-sheets of _Woodstock_, and I ought to correct them. Now, this _ought_ sounds as like as possible to _must_, and _must_ I cannot abide. I would go to Prester John's country of free good-will, sooner than I would _must_ it to Edinburgh. Yet this is all folly, and silly folly too; and so _must_ shall be for once obeyed after I have thus written myself out of my aversion to its peremptory sound. Corrected the said proofs till twelve o'clock--when I think I will treat resolution, not to a dram, as the drunken fellow said after he had passed the dram-shop, but to a walk, the rather that my eyesight is somewhat uncertain and wavering. I think it must be from the stomach. The whole page waltzes before my eyes. J.B. writes gloomily about _Woodstock_; but commends the conclusion. I think he is right. Besides, my manner is nearly caught, and, like Captain Bobadil[234], I have taught nearly a hundred gentlemen to fence very nearly, if not altogether, as well as myself. I will strike out something new. _April_ 3.--I have from Ballantyne and Gibson the extraordinary and gratifying news that _Woodstock_ is sold for £8228 in all, ready money--a matchless sum for less than three months' work[235]. If Napoleon does as well, or near it, it will put the trust affairs in high flourish. Four or five years of leisure and industry would, with [such] success, amply replace my losses, and put me on a steadier footing than ever. I have a curious fancy: I will go set two or three acorns, and judge by their success in growing whether I will succeed in clearing my way or not. I have a little toothache keeps me from working much to-day, besides I sent off, per Blucher, copy for _Napoleon_, as well as the d--d proofs. A blank forenoon! But how could I help it, Madam Duty? I was not lazy; on my soul I was not. I did not cry for half holiday for the sale of _Woodstock_. But in came Colonel Ferguson with Mrs. Stewart of Blackhill, or hall, or something, and I must show her the garden, pictures, etc. This lasts till one; and just as they are at their lunch, and about to go off, guard is relieved by the Laird and Lady Harden, and Miss Eliza Scott--and my dear Chief, whom I love very much, though a little obsidional or so, remains till three. That same crown, composed of the grass which grew on the walls of besieged places, should be offered to visitors who stay above an hour in any eident[236] person's house. Wrote letters this evening.