Wednesday, Nov 24, 1880 Still very cold and snowing a little since night fall. I made a box in which to take my pictures to N. Y. and then built a fire in my studio and tried to paint on the little picture of Gertrude for Mrs Sawyer but to no purpose. I cant make any thing of it. Sara went to N. Y. this morning and was to meet Jamie on the train. Calvert came this evening to stay until Monday. I went over to the cemetery just before evening. I have had such a longing for dear Gertrude and have thought so much about her all day. The little things in our room bring her before me. If I open one of her drawers as I did today a tide of tender memories of her sweeps over me and it still seems a strange thing that I am never to see her again. I have been reading a spiritualist paper which Janette sent me. Very strange things are recounted and much that is elevating and encouraging. In connection with what Weir told me it all seems very wonderful. I wonder if my dear Gertrude I loved so tenderly and who loved me so devotedly can and does come to me. Certainly if it is so I have no intimation of it. It seems to me that if she could come to me she would. I am going to New York next week for the winter and I dread going away from home and the loneliness I shall inevitably feel there. How I wonder what my fate is to be, my near future which does not seem hopeful as it once did.
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