Sunday, May 18, 1884 The apple blossoms on the hill are about at their best. I made a sketch in the forenoon but it was not very satisfactory. Joe and Gertrude are going home to Hillsboro tomorrow and Mary and Marion to New York. It will be very lonely here and I dread it. Luckily we are busy with our papering and painting. I wish I had nothing to do but paint from Nature every day. In New York I talked with Julia about her wedding. She thinks she will not be married here now but I told her we all wished her to be.