Gertrude and I went up to Alpine on Sunday and returned Monday. (I was at the Club Saturday night.) Julia was not getting on. It became very cold Saturday night and riding to the station Monday we felt the cold as much as at any time this winter. Eastman Johnson and I dined at B. F. Butlers friday evening to meet Alfred Booths brother. I have finished my picture "The Wings of the Morning" and the Artists who have seen it seem to think it an original work and as far as I can judge creditably rendered. I think it is one of those things which will interest people but which few will care to own. Eastman Johnson, Hubbard, Wood, Brown are enthusastic in their praise of it, with perhaps the exception of Johnson who I have reason to think considers it a credit to me. Gifford & Whittredge have seen it but I do not quite know how they regard it. But these are anxious days. No one comes here. I have money to pay and sell nothing and whenever I am unemployed and allow myself to think I am in a great trouble and anxiety.
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