Wednesday 20th February 1808

Dear Diary,
I was filled with excitement and anticipation when I awoke this morning. I have calculated that today is the first day it is possible to receive a reply to my epistle that I despatched to the 'thespian' in London. I have remained about the house all day and peered down the drive for much of it hoping to espy some jolly fellow bringing a reply...but nothing! I cannot say I am not down hearted for I am. To receive it today, I feel, would have meant some effort on the fellow's part and shown an eagerness to communicate but each passing day hereafter only diminishes in my mind his attention for me. How unlucky I am! I blame magpies!
Tonight Ned filled a bath for me and I bathed before the fire in my chamber. It was relaxing to watch the shadows dance about the room and lay in that warm enveloping liquid, but it soon began to chill. I called to Ned to fetch more and covered my eyes while he poured it in.
"Shall I shave your back Mr Austen?" he said.
Not scrub! Not wash!...................No shave!
Is it any wonder I bathe alone! Do you see how hideous I am?