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had a pleasant visit. Mary had another letter from Laura Saturday written in a more cheerful spirit. They are going to St. John for a couple of weeks to consult a physician and Joe is coming to New York. Called on Mr & Mrs. Rossiter Johnson. The weather is bitterly cold with wind which raises clouds of dust. I think of Sara and my father and wonder if they are comfortable.

Thursday 22 Jan. 1885. A feeling of depression still haunts me but not to the extent it did a day or two ago. The days go by and no one comes to my room. I realize how little the American artists are esteemed. If I should die I should hardly be missed. I feel very discouraged, but paint away solely to keep employed. How many times a day I think of my dear Gertrude and sadly as I miss her there is some compensation in the reflection that she is untouched by the sorrows of life and the disappointments and anxieties of advancing age. When I think how little recognition and encouragement I would be satisfied with I cannot help a feeling of injustice that after the labor of a life time I hold so small a place in the public esteem. I wrote a short note to Sara this morning before breakfast telling her I would go home Saturday. Spent most of the evening at Marys. Went up to see Julia Dillon. She has a lady pupil from London, Canada. Went around to the club and had talk with Champney. He teaches constantly. Says he would starve if he did not. I told him of my plan. Thought I would find it exhausting to have pupils constantly with me but seemed to think I would have no difficulty in getting them.

Friday 23. The weather still bitterly cold. I work away and see no one. I might almost as well be in Kamschatka. Rock sent a man for the balance of his bill $38. The bills always come when one is particularly not ready for them. I have a desperate feeling but I work and try not to think of my troubles. Marion had her party this evening. She asked me to come but I do not feel like being among young people bent on enjoyment. I came regretfully to my room after dinner, feeling most deeply the need of sympathetic companionship, and dreading to be alone, yet without the courage to be in a throng. I wrote to Laura, or rather copied the letter I wrote up last Sunday in which I tried to share my sympathy with her and to soften the unfriendly feelings they all harbor toward us. Then about ten o clock I went to the club where I saw Perry and Champney. I spoke to Perry about my plan of having pupils. He thought I would be sick of it as I dare say I will. He said I could just as well get a $200 a month as $100 and I think now of asking $500 for the three months.

Saturday 24" It snowed last night when I came from the club and like all the storms this winter has ended in rain. There was a fine mist when I went out to breakfast. Julia went back to Baltimore this morning. I am to go home and am going over to Marys to lunch. I left my letter to Laura with her to read. This is our dear mothers birth day and she would have been 76 years old. Dear Mother. I like to think of her at rest from all her anxieties, for her life was full of them in her unbounded sympathy and magnificance. I always hoped to be able to make life easy for her and I was able to do something in that direction but not the half I wished to. I wonder if she and Gertrude and Gussie and Maurice are together and if they are happy and free from all sorrows. I hope and try to believe they are I am sad enough and often wish the struggle were over and I were

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Replaced with [[?]] sometimes a word, sometimes few. ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-04-26 11:29:54 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-05-02 08:04:58 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-05-02 09:57:25 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-05-02 14:39:30