It has been a sad day to me. The air here seems charged with sorrow. Maurice stole out while we were at dinner and came back towards evening in a most wretched condition having been down in the mud. Our hearts are crushed and we know not what to do. I told my father today that I thought in the past he should have held him to some of his responsibilities and we had an unpleasant and heated talk. I do believe he should not have been allowed to lead the selfish life he always has. Dear Gertrude is beyond the reach of this trouble but how my heart has ached for her all day. I have been looking over some her things in her drawers and reading some letters and I have shed many bitter tears here alone in my room. I wrote to Mary Gifford and could not help saying a great deal about dear Gertrude. Alice Marys neice has named her little baby after Gertrude and I wrote to tell her how deeply I was touched by it. John and Nannie came up a little while this evening. The twenty fifth anniversary of our wedding occurred a week ago today. It passed without my being aware of it. I was in New York.