granted, possibly darkened the first days of her last Roman winter.
In late November of the year 1897 she arrived in Rome
with the Elliotts to pass the winter at their apartment in the ancient Palazzo Rusticucci of the old Leonine City across the Tiber; in the shadow of St. Peter
's, next door to the Vatican.
The visit had been planned partly in the hope that she might once more see her sister Louisa.
In this we know she was disappointed.
They reached Rome
at the beginning of the rainy season, which fell late that year.
All these causes taken together account for an unfamiliar depression that creeps into the Journal.
She missed, too, the thousand interests of her Boston
life; her church, her club, her meetings, all the happy business of keeping a grandmother's house where three generations and their friends were made welcome.
At home every hour of time was planned for, every ounce of power well invested in some “labor worthy of her metal.”
her only work at first was the writing of her “Reminiscences” for the “Atlantic Monthly.”
Happily, the depression was short-lived.
Gradually the ancient spell of the Great Enchantress once more enthralled her, but it was not until she had founded a club, helped to found a Woman's Council, begun to receive invitations to lecture and to preach, that the accustomed joie de vivre
pulses through the record.
The sower is at work again, the ground is fertile, the seed quickening.
. The first day of this winter, which God help me to live through!
Dearest Maud is all ”