9 September 1867 – 15 September 1867

Rainy. By 8.40 even- ing train behold D. G. R. ! he wears a ventilating hat, something like a policeman's helmet, in which he looks short and broad, having grown stout. We have supper and sit up talking till three. He has been troubled with his eyes, but has brought down an unfinished picture, half-length female figure, intending to paint in back- ground of roses.

Very fine. My landlady grumpy — ' didn't tell me of the gentleman,' etc. I explain. We walk by the river-side to Roydon Farm, path to Brockenhurst Church. Crown Inn. Rail to Lymington. Dine 7 ; Bed about i. He had thought Lymington to be on the very edge of the Forest.

D. G. R. and I walk out to Rope Hill, and Captain Barton shows us beautiful roses and offers us some for the picture — a very kind man. R. and I to Shirley Holmes and lie in the grassy circle surrounded with oaks, hollies, etc., pierced with little green alleys and tunnels, a fit place to act the Midsummer Night's Dream in. We talk of the Forest Gypsies ; this is one of their camping places. D. G. R. has some notion of taking lodgings at Lymington.

Call D. G. R. He has not yet opened his Picture case, so I undo the fastenings. He finds that none of Captain B.'s roses are exactly of the kind for him ; he wants the fresh-coloured loose- leaved China rose. I to Custom-House and then call at the Skinners, Walk with Skinner, Q.C., and two daughters to Arne- wood. The knowing and experienced talk of the eminent lawyer makes me feel small. I find D. G. R. on the sofa, has not been out, nor looked at his picture, but been reading The Mill on the Floss all day.

Call D. G. R. Registered letter with bank notes, etc., ^\^^ : los. — for 'copy' of Lilith. We write letters. Howell has proposed to come here, R. writes to him, ' Come if you will.' Out about 1.30 ; R. and I call at Pennington Cottage, and young Skinner joins us. Milford Church — congregation in it, but D. G. R. and S. go in all the same, take a look and come out again — path, millpond, cliff, sea ; delight- ful view. We talk of Home and other ' Spiritualists,' about whom D. G. R. has at the least a curiosity. Back by Keyhaven and the Marsh. We are late, but D. G. R. wont hurry. He says in a conclusive tone : ' I never do anything I don't like.' Dine 6.30. We go down and look at the river by moonlight. Bed about 2. I argue that Maggie TulUver's lover Stephen is made too mean and commonplace : R. doesn't agree.