HYDE PARK, Wednesday—Today is gray and it is quite evident that my husband's departure carries with it his good luck as far as weather goes. While he was here we didn't have a single gray or rainy day.

I went over to the big house at 9:30 to see my nephew, Danny, off for New York. Like all other young people, a sense of time seems to be left out of his make-up and I had a feeling that it would require my presence to see that he took the train he intended to take. If your own boys are grown and flown, it's rather fun to have the loan of a young nephew for a little while, even if he is grown up.

As I drove in to our avenue, I saw little Diana Hopkins riding the pony. She came into the house before I left and evidently had enjoyed her ride. She agreed that it was a little too cold for swimming this morning, so she is coming over to have lunch at the cottage.

Yesterday afternoon we all went up to the Dutchess County Fair. As we came out of the gate on our way up, I noticed a most interesting looking old man walking towards Poughkeepsie. He caught sight of us and called out something about praying for us. Then, as we stopped and waited for a chance to cross the road, he came over and spoke to me and said that he read my column and wished us well. His eyes seemed to burn and there was something dignified and arresting about his personality. Do you ever wonder about people who just touch your life in some way for a minute? I have a feeling that an interesting story might lie back of this encounter.

My stay at the fair was brief, but the others spent some time. Diana told me it was her first county fair. I was amused when I went in to say good night to her and found her sitting up in a very big bed surrounded by knickknacks which she had bought. Her greatest concern was the loss of the key to the mechanical monkey who combed his hair, because he remained with the comb held high in the air. The horse show at the fair seems to improve every year and it is gradually becoming worthwhile for people to bring their horses from some distance.

I told you the other day of a young girl who came to see me because she had been brought up in an orphan asylum and wanted to train herself in social work and have an opportunity to work for the establishment of homes where girls like herself could find shelter on leaving an institution, or foster home, to go out to work. I was interested, shortly after writing about her, to receive a note from a woman who wished to get in touch with this girl, because she too wanted work of this kind. I feel sure that this means others will also be interested and will help this girl to succeed in her desire.