The Doctor in Mourning

Day 85

Mr. Gamble and I departed from his residence early this morning in his carriage for Portsmouth. Mrs. Gamble fussed over my hair and coat and made me promise to write often before allowing me out of the house.

I have been so meloncholy and restless of late. I am ready for warmer weather, and the sun. My trunks rattle against the outside of the carriage as we bump along the road toward Portsmouth. The sky is gray and dull, the air is cold... more snow threatens.

We have made better time than expected, arriving early. The ship I am to return home upon will not be ready to depart until tomorrow.