There is really nothing much to say about our life at home.

It was very happy, but there were no great events in it, and Eleanor says it will not do for us to "go off at a tangent," and describe what happened to the boys at school and college; first, because these biographies are merely to be lives of our own selves, for nobody but us two to read when we are both old maids; and secondly, because if we put down everything we had anything to do with in these ten years, it will be so very long before our biographies are finished.
We are very anxious to see them done, partly because we are getting rather tired of them, and Jack is becoming suspicious, and partly because we have got an amateur bookbinding press, and we want to bind them.
Well, as I said, we paid visits to relatives of mine, and to old friends of the Arkwrights.

My friends invited Eleanor, and Eleanor's friends invited me.

People are very kind; and it was understood that we were happier together.
I was fortunate enough to find myself possessed of some charming cousins living in a cathedral town; and at their house it was a great pleasure to us to visit.

The cathedral services gave us great delight; when I think of the expression of Eleanor's face, I may almost say rapture.
Then there was a certain church-bookseller's shop in the town, which had manifold attractions for us.