Thursday, Sept 17, 1885 A feeling of melancholy has possessed me all day, the [?] summer, the fleeting years, the memories of what has been. Have been reading a letter of dear Gertrude written to Sara at school in Clinton only ten days after we were married, awaking in my heart such an unutterable longing for her companionship, now in the days of my loneliness that life seems colorless and vain. I know so well the cause of my discontent, the lack of absorbing employment and drifting and uncertain plans for the future. We drove out to see Alice, Marys old servant, Sara, Mary, my father and I and Dwight and Girardie after dinner. Mrs. Stedman nee Miss Josephine Mc George was here this forenoon. Mrs. Cantine called just as we were about to drive off. A letter from Mary Gifford came yesterday wanting [?] wrote her last night we could not [?] and urging her to come down here Friday and stay over Sunday.