Wednesday, Aug 25, 1886 Began the day with a feeling of discouragement. Tom asked me for some money and I was obliged to tell him I could not let him have it at present. I felt despairing and worked myself into a state of absolute misery. I seriously thought of going down to see Coykendall and selling our place to him if possible for I feel that this sort of worry will kill me. I am about as miserable as one can well be. A letter came from Sara this morning saying she had received my letter and now would not come home until Saturday. I wrote a letter of condolence to Mrs. Platt but could not half express my sorrow for her loss. I also wrote to Weir. Calvert came up by the Powell looking jaded and anxious.
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