The pleasantest incident of the morning is when Mr. Pearce (the
Vice-Consul) makes his appearance with the account-books, containing the
receipts and expenditures of the preceding day, and deposits on my desk a
little rouleau of the Queen's coin, wrapped up in a piece of paper. This
morning there were eight sovereigns, four half-crowns, and a shilling,--a
pretty fair day's work, though not more than the average ought to be.
This forenoon, thus far, I have had two calls, not of business,--one from
an American captain and his son, another from Mr. H---- B----, whom I
met in America, and who has showed us great attention here. He has
arranged for us to go to the theatre with some of his family this
evening.

Since I have been in Liverpool we have hardly had a day, until yesterday,
without more or less of rain, and so cold and shivery that life was
miserable. I am not warm enough even now, but am gradually getting
acclimated in that respect.

Just now I have been fooled out of half a crown by a young woman, who
represents herself as an American and destitute, having come over to see
an uncle whom she found dead, and she has no means of getting back again.
Her accent is not that of an American, and her appearance is not
particularly prepossessing, though not decidedly otherwise. She is
decently dressed and modest in deportment, but I do not quite trust her
face. She has been separated from her husband, as I understand her, by
course of law, has had two children, both now dead. What she wants is to
get back to America, and perhaps arrangements may be made with some
shipmaster to take her as stewardess or in some subordinate capacity. My
judgment, on the whole, is that she is an English woman, married to and
separated from an American husband,--of no very decided virtue. I might
as well have kept my half-crown, and yet I might have bestowed it worse.