Monday, May 2, 1881 Took a walk out to the cemetery to see if the violets on dear Gertrudes grave, which Lucy brought, had blossomed. They have not and seem barely alive. I walked out on the Common and thought all the way of my dear Gertrude who used to go there with me. The summer looks sad to me. I am afraid I am to be at home powerless from the lack of money to do any thing, but I try not to think of it and to hope I may even yet sell my Academy picture which would make a great difference to me. I came home and showed Cousin Mary some of dear Gertrudes embroidery and the pretty things she had begun. It almost broke my heart to think that they remain while the dear hands that wrought them are crumbling to dust. I came to N. Y. with the noon train. Found a note from Mary Nesmith saying she would be delighted to accept my invitation for the theatre tomorrow evening. Attended the Council. Hot and close as usual to suit the thin blooded ones. The so called "reform" measures do not find much favor.