Called on Julia Dillon this morning. Have begun a study for a large picture with only a dream of solemn skies, a far reaching shadowy landscape with a sense of mystery brooding over it. If I can only get started it seems to me now I might do something very noble, but when I take up my colors they seem to slow to respond to my thought. I called on Loop and left the little portrait of Gertrude in which he is going to indicate some lace and suggest the bust. I had a letter from Sara enclosing one from Jannette which has affected me all day very strangely. She says unqualificaly that she has spoken with Gertrude, has actually heard in a whisper the tone of her voice and she sent a message to me. Knowing how impossible it is for her to send any word to me through any one else I nevertheless wonder how a conscientious person like Janette can be so impressed with the reality of such an illusion. She is to come to New York this week and I must see her reluctantly for all this business is most distasteful to me and fills me with sensations which I cannot describe. She will probably go to Rondout. I dread this meeting.