Has been in this sanitorium since hospital. Sailing March 24. Willa Cather [Stout #680]
Missed receiving his letter; was spending the weekend at Cos Cob. Hasn't been to any musical events since returning except for a few by German opera performers. Has finally caught up on correspondence—probably three hundred letters! Hopes they can have dinner or tea. Olive Fremstad is away in Egypt. Willa Cather [Stout #1816]
It was a good idea to make it to Chicago and have the party after all. Such excursions can be helpful. Jack did not come for Christmas, and she and Edith had a quiet day, nursing Edith's sick eye. Had dinner with Isabelle and Jan Hambourg Christmas Eve, and invited Joe Charter [?], a widower, and Sanborn, the New York Globe music critic, for dinner on Christmas night. Ended the night early, owing to Edith's eye. Had a wonderful Friday tea yesterday with about 30 people, including Alfred McClung and many friends from Pittsburgh in town for Christmas. Afterwards bolted to the Biltmore hotel to have dinner with Bostonian friends. Feels tired today, but still went to a concert with the Hambourgs. Had lunch on Wednesday with the pianist Harold Bauer, Mrs. Bauer, and the violinist Kreisler. Isabelle is wonderful at entertaining creative and famous people. Received two gorgeous Russian candelabras from Jan and Isabelle for Christmas, which cast a beautiful glow at tea on the new tea table. Best new things, though, are three terrific paintings of the Mediterranean and Ionian sea by Edith's friend Earl Brewster. The paintings are beautiful so large that framing them is going to be expensive. Brewster's paintings are typically selling for $200 to $500, and these are quite good. He said he they are not a gift but a long term loan. Has published a rather weak story in Harper's Monthly [ "A Gold Slipper" ], but got $450 for it, and is glad for the money: expenses are quite a bit higher than last year. Engough apples for a pie cost 25 cents, beef is 36 cents a pound, and chicken costs 42 cents a pound—$2.10 for a five pound chicken! Probably won't starve on Bank street, though. Willie
