the horses with
Edward. They were waiting to be fed with their evening hay. To my
surprise and pleasure, Moonlight suddenly neighed. "Evidently getting
her appetite back," I remarked. "Oh yes, sir," says Hunt; "several
times I've caught her _hollerin'_ for her meals lately!" Isn't that a
lovely expression?

[Sidenote: JEZEBEL IN ONE OF HER MOODS]

Hunt is such a good chap. He thinks nothing of "abroad," but a lot of
the "'osses," as he calls them. I found him what seemed to me a very
nice loft to sleep in when we got here. But no: "I'd rather sleep with
my 'osses, sir, thank you." And he sleeps practically under their noses.
"You see, sir, the mare might get one of her moods on."

He is getting very fond of Jezebel now, and whenever she errs, he
attributes the error to one of her moods.

She tore her nosebag to pieces the other day; whether because she was
hungry and it was empty, or because it amused her, or because she was
being bitten by a fly, I don't know. No one seems to have seen her do
it. "One of her moods," says Hunt; and that's all there is to be said
about the incident.

My dear, this country is most enchanting. Far away from nasty noises,
full of unexpected wooded valleys and willowy streams.

All the little shrines are, as usual, surrounded by half-clipped trees.

And the wild-flowers. Clear pale blue succory is the most charming of
all, and I am going to send you some plants as soon as they have ceased
flowering.

_August 6._

You can't think how difficult it is to take any interest in military
matters sometimes. The inclination to let things slide. The feeling that
an order is not so terrifying as it once was; that after all, who will
know or bother if one furtive subaltern creeps out one evening to
sketch?

_August 8._

Do you know, it's unintelligent, but I do so enjoy being here away from
the fevers of war. War is getting tedious, and the summer is all too
short.

Swallow is coming back. Isn't it splendid! The General finds him too
irritating and tiresome. Jezebel will be glad, for she doesn't like the
ghost-horse Moonlight, and she never really disliked Swallow. I can't
say she liked him, because she likes no one, dear lamb. But she used to
look on Swallow with rather less suspicion, somehow. And Swallow has a
habit of licking that she approves of. I have often seen her snap at him
even while he is licking her; but he always continues after a moment. I
think it soothes her when t