Sunday, Sept 23, 1888 The sun shone brightly this morning with the promise of a fine day but it soon became cloudy and it has been grey and chilly all day with a North wind. I think the continued cloudy weather is depressing and I have felt a little melancholy all day and prone to look at the shadowy side of every thing. I wrote to John Andrews this forenoon as Lucy may have started for here before my letter reaches there. Jane Goetchins came up just after dinner and has been entertaining Sara all afternoon with her private and particular troubles. Most people think their troubles of interest to every one forgetting that each has his own to engage his attention.