O Most Dearest and Understanding Diary,

Today, the mistress has left for her sabbatical to France. Being the lovely, romantic place it has been called, I fear for her love that has been invested in me. Shall it be lost to another man?

Ah, but she assures me that I am thinking poppycock; besides, she says, the people in France are most impolite.

But, ah! my mistress, how I cannot wait for her to return upon that wooden bulk of canvas and rigging, to faithfully return home to me. Alas, she shall be gone for at least two fortnights – shall I make it without? The womenfolk around the house are giggling about it, muttering behind their fans and the like about how I, the pathetic cobbler from Chiswick, shall not retain the only love of my life.

But, I know, my mistress shall return. Methinks it shall be a wait, but one that ends in happiness for the both of us.

(As they say in France) Au Revoir, Diary!