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170

Hall. I lunched with the Bachelders meeting Mrs. Jackson "H.H" whom I had not seen since I met her in Rome in 1868-9. She had grown very stout. She impressed me differently from what she did then. Is more self asserting, thinks she is being poisoned by the air and water of N.Y. and that altogether it is a bad place to live in. Thinks Mr Hunt was a very great man and that his pictures will grow more valuable. Struck me as a little sarcastic and smart, but very chatty and bright. I confess to a little disappointment but I ought not to Judge on so short an interview. Came to my room after sitting a while with Mr. Bachelder and then went to Eastman Johnsons to dine. Booth and his wife and Edwina were there, Hattie, Mrs. Ketchum and her daughter and Phil. Wilson. Mrs. Barnard came in just as we were through dinner and amused us all with her blundering simplicity. Had gone all about the city in the evening and had never been spoken to! Mrs. Ketchum is a very charming woman to me. A sweet womanly face that has kept its sweetness through a heavy sorrow. I met her there once before several years ago.

Monday Apl. 26" 1880. I had such a vivid but brief dream of darling Gertrude this morning, as all my other brief glimpses of her have been, just a moment of an ordinary life, as though she were still with me. I thought she was by my side and she looked so well and strong and not thin and ill as in her last years. How sweet it was for a brief moment to be with her and to feel her love and to look into her sweet and trusting face. Have painted all day but feel a great depression and discouragement and depression. Mary, Julia and I made a midday call on Mrs [[?]] daughter. The meeting of the Council added to my discouragement. More pictures have sold at the Academy than usual but the fact remains that the people of this great city take no interest in their artists and the outlook is most discouraging to me. It seemed to me I was never more discouraged than tonight.

Tuesday 27. This morning I awoke with a most desolate and despairing feeling. I wrote to Sara and poured out my wretchedness to her. Then I walked up to the Academy to see if Brown had any expectations of selling any of my pictures.