Thursday, Apr 21, 1887 Have tried to paint today, but with little heart. Spent the evening at home but Mary has gone to Rondout, Marion went out and Mr. Parsons came to talk over some business with Calvert. I came to my room a little after 10 greatly depressed. When I feel so unhappy I cannot bear to go see any one. I did not even want to go to the Century. I long tonight for some near and dear friend, but alas I seem no longer to have such an one. Inevitably I think of dear Gertrude in times like these and grieve for her in unabated sorrow. Discouragements seem to confront me on every hand and the worst feature of it is that I begin to distrust myself. How can it be otherwise when no one wants my work and my pictures come back to me from every place I send them. It seems now that I shall not make half our expenses this year and what am I to do. My brain reels when I think of the straits I may seen be in. What misery there is in this desperate struggle for a bare living. The little picture went today to Mr. Linsley but I have no guarantee that it will not return. I have no confidence in anything I do or try to do.
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