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of my anxiety about Downing I thought constantly of her and how lonely my life is without her. It is in these troubles that I more and more miss her sweet sympathy always so active and alert. To crown all our troubles Maurice is perhaps his worst again in spite of a plain talking my father has given him since I have been gone. He tries us more and more and I can only look forward to everything that is to be dreaded and found. I brought some vines with me from Marbletown and went this morning to the cemetery and set them out along the rocks on our lot. The autumn color is coming on but I have often seen it more advanced on the first of October than it is today, the 15". John & Nannie, Fred Norton and Annie were here at tea and spent the evening as well as Girard and Mary. Pa built a fire in the hall stove today for the first. It has been a cool, brilliant day. Mrs. Taylor wrote to me a week or so ago for Bayards letters and I have been reading them over again today, going both over my life for twenty years past until the present seemed less real than the days, and the friends who are gone. 

Our barn has been pulled down since I went away and the new stable is occupied. There were many associations with the old barn in which all the children have played but it is better that it is gone having seen its day. 

Monday 16" Went over to the cemetery by arrangement with the keeper, directly after breakfast and rearranged the sodding about the graves on our lot, making them into square flower beds which keep me until noon. This afternoon helped Sara put the carpet down in the parlor and arrange it for winter. I telegraphed to Calvert this morning to know how Downing was and he replied "return to Marbletown - good progress today. I am at business" so we conclude Downing is out of danger and I will go back tomorrow if the weather is fair. There are symptoms of rain. Sara expects to go to N.Y. tomorrow. Maurice has helped today in the parlor and seems himself. John Swan died last week while I was at Marbletown. 

Tuesday 17". It was foggy and misty this morning and looked so threatening I did not return to Marbletown. Sara went to N.Y. by the Powell. We burned out the chimneys six flues in all, a job I have been dreading. I felt headachy all day and towards tea time felt very badly, but later I felt better. How could I not be reminded of my dear Gertrude in Lowells charming poem "My Love" on the other paper. She might have been its inspiration.