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went to his office soon after and so he could tell us but little more. It is raining a little now as I am about to return and I hope we will have a rainy night and a rainy day tomorrow.

Saturday October 3" 1885. It rained a little in the night and looked rainy this morning. During the forenoon we had a hard shower but it cleared off warm and bright by noon. Calvert and I talked of our worries and tried to find some solution of the difficult problem. He went down to the Terry house and I read in Romola in which I am interested. Although I read it, I think while I was in Florence it is new to me. I had forgotten it. Towards evening I drove down to the Baldwin with Marys two boxes of jellies &c and gave them in charge of Delavergne who said he would see that they were safely forwarded. Girards wife rode down with me and I left her there. I find on looking over my diary of a year ago I was troubled something as I now am - little interest in my profession and a fear that I would not repair it, but after all I did a great deal of work and painted an unusual number of pictures. If I could be measurably relieved from money worries I am confident I could do more and better work for these anxieties dull ones sensitiveness to impressions and take away the peace and serenity of mind essential to an artists success. In all these troubles come up the memories of dear Gertrude, a withering sense of the loss of her sympathetic companionship and a saddened feeling that most of my companionships outside outside our family, are gone. Activity and absorption in work is the only panacea, and unfortunately I am not able to work now, hardly to interest myself in any thing save plans for the near future, how to live and how to meet my obligations. My finger is nearly well, heavily the result of Saras treatment. I received a letter this evening from Rossiter Johnson asking me to contribute an article on Wm. Page for Appletons Annual Enclycopedia. I shall refer him to Perry.
 
[[newspaper clipping]]
THE FUNERAL OF WILLIAM PAGE.
The funeral of William Page, the artist, was a very quiet and unpretentious ceremony at New-Dorp, Staten Island, yesterday. The Rev. Samuel S. Seward, Pastor of the New-Jerusalem Swedenborgian Church, read the services at the little Moravian church in New-Dorp. Mrs. Page and her six children were present. Mrs. J. A. Rose and Mrs. J. W. Watson, daughters of Mr. Page by his first wife, with their husbands, Daniel Huntington, President of the Academy of Design; C. G. Thompson, and Simon Stevens, a brother-in-law of the deceased. A bunch of Autumn leaves, with a few violets and lilies of the valley, were placed on the coffin, and the interment took place at the cemetery adjoining the Moravian church.
[[/newspaper clipping]]

Saturday 4" A warm forenoon and a rainy afternoon clearing at night. I wrote to Mr. Rossiter Johnson recommending him to get Perry to write the article on Page. When the Times came today I saw this notice of Pages funeral. I had not heard of his death. I never knew Page intimately for I was never attracted to him. He seemed to me a man of theories and to paint from theory rather than from feeling. I know he was greatly esteemed by many people who considered him an interesting man and a great artist. Some of his portraits which I have seen were fine in many respects but his [[nine?]] elaborate compositions do not appeal to me and I think time will eventually obliterate them as they were painted in a peculiar manner and seemed to blacken with age. His career was a strange one, at one time an oracle to a wide circle and at last dying almost in obscurity, perhaps hardly missed from among those who once had the highest faith in his ideas of art. We have sat in the parlor most of the day, Calvert and I, while Sara wrote her letters, my father not coming down until after dinner, when it grew a little cool and we had a fire. Just before tea I drove Calvert down to see Mr. Terry. Calvert enjoys being here and I shall be sorry when he goes. A little variety in our sober life is very agreeable. I am greatly interested in Romola and have finished the first volume. I cut this "last farewell" from the Times today. I used to be familiar with the name of Albert Pike many years ago in The "Knickerbocker" I think

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