To supper, and to bed. Thus this book of two years ends. Myself and
family in good health, consisting of myself and wife, Mercer, her woman,
Mary, Alice, and Susan our maids, and Tom my boy. In a sickly time of the
plague growing on. Having upon my hands the troublesome care of the
Treasury of Tangier, with great sums drawn upon me, and nothing to pay
them with: also the business of the office great. Consideration of
removing my wife to Woolwich; she lately busy in learning to paint, with
great pleasure and successe. All other things well; especially a new
interest I am making, by a match in hand between the eldest son of Sir G.
Carteret, and my Lady Jemimah Montage. The Duke of Yorke gone down to the
fleete, but all suppose not with intent to stay there, as it is not fit,
all men conceive, he should.