Dearest Mary,   After writing to you and walking over with Mamie to mail it and other belated letter I was so tired I read papers in bed till 9 and then slept from 9:15 till 7:15. Today it has been letters all day till meeting and then letters again till now at 3:30 there is yours and one to Father left. After that Wordsworth I have become despondent again about Friday. They will surely not take any action. And Dr. Rhoads will not be well enough to come back from Atlantic City. No letters will do any good. But I try not to think of it. Certainly a life like mind since Xmas is nothing to regret - the birds and sky and sun and stars might as well not exist. I do not feel in a writing mood. I am sorry but I am too tired physically. Your letters to me are much more worthwhile than mine to you but perhaps it is only fair after so many years of my letters to you. What do you think? I am writing today to Dr. Cushier about one of my students to see if she can be admitted to her hospital (Do not mention her name Nelly Morgan to Julia de Forest unless it is necessary) and to Dr. Culbertson about another case for the Boston Hospital. Poor sick girls - both poor and sick and so far away from home and in their homes no women doctors one from Kentucky and one from Florida.   It is heavenly weather today I wish I could have you on the porch for a talk, only I should prob. Not talk anymore than I can write. If we live till Summer, my dear, I will reform and we shall really talk. Ah Summer indeed. 7 weary weeks off. Did you know it was so long? I am better, throat much better, nothing the matter but too much to do. I wish you were as well today. At all events you are better than a week ago.   8 P.M.   Here at 4 - a woman came about her daughter from Ohio and before she had left, Miss Irwin, the 1st time I have seen her since Bar Harbor. She has been in mourning and I have not called - came and staid [sic] till 6 - the hr our Sunday mail closes. I am so sorry. After this I will never leave your letter to within 2 hrs of mail time. You have chosen badly, my dear, you should have chosen someone with leisure as well as many other things, but after all you did your best to choose better, did you not? And could not.    Miss Irwin is attractive even if she did make me miss my letter.   Even WordsworthGÇÖs passion as Math. Arnold will have it (and he has the most impassioned passion) will leave me cold tonight. How can I care for clouds and flowers when my heart is on sordid vile motives that influence Trustees.   But all the same PlatoGÇÖs winged archangel has not deserted me and there are thought[s] that help even a candidate for a presidency to soar, but the power to express them is lacking.   Plato and Socrates would not approve of the candidacy I feel sure.   Goodnight my darling. Have a better night and a better day.   You shall have Rossetti tomorrow.