[Campton—Thursday, 14 June 1866]
Thursday. Cold, wet, raining at intervals. Letters last night from Longfellow urging J. to come to the last reading of the “Paradiso.” Greene had already arrived. He will renew the Wednesday evenings in September over the “difficult passages.” Letters from our artist-sister in Paris. One of the most successful pictures in the Paris exhibition this year was that of a woman with her hair painted from life.
We hear the rivers speaking to us in the silence. Everything is odorous from rain, the birds are chiefly silent except a nervous robin who speaks out sharply at intervals during the night as well as the day, as if asking whether all be well with young folks of his or hers near at hand.