13 August 1888 – 19 August 1888

H. and I drive to Borough Farm, heather bloom. Tea-party at door, outside, Mrs. Humphry Ward, Mr. Ward, Miss Sellars (tall and beautiful), and Mr. Henry James. The Anglo-American Novelist had just arrived from London, and was going back by a late train. He described himself as an ' unmitigated Cockney,' was surprised at the colour of the heather, and hearing ling spoken of, asked to look at it. While we were at tea, a flock of sheep, herded by a long-limbed half-wild looking girl of fourteen, streamed down the green-sward track just in front of us, between an old weed-grown wall and some grassy knolls, with a great ash tree and two or three other trees : a picture. The pony, still in the shafts, grazed peaceably. 'Tis a beautiful wild place — much vext by the rifle-range close by.