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there saw the Casino, a fine building and the new opera house, an immense structure. The great number of high apartment houses give that portion of the city a foreign look. Eastman had finished his portrait and I think it admirable - one of his very best. We were struck with the strong resemblance to my father. As usual Eastman is behind time in sending to the Academy. This and another portrait are going tomorrow although last Wednesday was the last day for receiving pictures. Mrs Johnson was going out to dancing school with Ethel and they sat down to dinner. Presently she called to us to know if we would have our dinner with her. We started down stairs and I sat down with her. Eastman did not come for some time and she was in great haste. I carved for her. In the midst Ethel had lost or mislaid something and a boy called with a package to collect something. She had only a ten dollar bill and he had to go to get it changed. Another boy came with another package for more money. The first boy came after a long time and meanwhile Eastman had arrived. The servant in opening a bottle of wine pushed the cork in and all went wrong. Eastman said to me in his comical way "You're the only man we dare invite to dinner" said to his wife he "hoped they would get off" which they did after a little. But it was all very funny and Mrs Johnson is always good natured. After dinner we talked about the growing extravagance of the day and the disappearance of any thing like simple hospitality. Mrs Johnson returned about 9 and I came to my room a little after 10. 

Saturday 10. It is raining and if this is Wiggins storm it is a mild one so far. Went home by the Wallkill Valley road. The rain had been snow above Goshen and Maurice met me at the Junction with a sleigh. Found my mother about the same but looking well in the face.

Sunday 11. Downing and I took a walk through Ludlums woods and around by the road crossing to the Alms house, returning through Ludlums woods. In places the track was not broken and it seemed like mid winter although the sun shone brightly. 

Monday 12" My mother did not seem as bright as usual to-day and seems discouraged. My poor dear Mother who has always been so active and so helpful cannot reconcile herself to being obliged to be helped even to move. I am reading George Sands "Histoire de ma vie" Her account of her Grandmothers illness and death is very touching and filled me with sadness. It seems to me a similar grief is close to us, and I feel a sense of culpability that I cannot be near my dear Mother 

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---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-03-25 16:45:13