Monday, May 21, 1883 Grey and promising rain. I painted a sketch of the little apple tree in front of the house with its blossoms but I did not succeed very well. I feel very despondent and melancholy. I think so much here of my dear Gertrude and miss her constantly. Sometimes I think it would be better for me if I never had to come here. I saw by the Tribune that Professor Avery died in Clinton a few days ago. My father went to school with him. Seeing it made me think of Clinton, of my life there and my being there with dear Gertrude and a deep sense of sadness seems to overshadow me. I made another little sketch this afternoon our of my window. The color was pretty and delicate but I always come so far short of nature that I feel depressed with my work. I want to be doing something serious and am unhappy that I am not but I must strive against this feeling for I can never expect to do all I want to do. A letter came from Booth from Paris May 4th. He does not write with much enthusiasm and it seems an effort. I am anxious to know how he will regard Downings going away and am prepared for great disappointment on his part. There is no telling the effect it will have. He certainly has cause for great anxiety.
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