Tuesday, Mar 6, 1883 I awoke this morning before dawn with such a dreadful sense of impending disaster that my heart almost seemed to stop beating. The old, old trouble which almost always comes with the spring when I should feel happy and hopeful. It was snowing when I went to breakfast and continues to snow furiously. I wrote a despairing letter to Sara filled with my apprehensions and I was obliged to write to Mr. Butler declining the "G. B." dinner and to tell him I was forced to consider my expenditures. This is humiliating but I do not want him to think me indifferent. Painted on my picture until the light failed and I think improved it when I busied myself reading and in various ways to try to keep away distracting thoughts. It snowed all day but was raining a little when I went to dinner. Spent the evening at Marys.