there, quite forgetting to instruct the people
about strangers, I was beset by another one afternoon. A cousin who has
been gassed and shell-shocked had come in to read to me. There was a tap
on the door. "Mrs. Fierce," announced the porter, and in sailed a lady
whom I had never seen in my life before. (I want the readers of these
"glimpses" to know that the following conversation is absolutely as it
took place and has not been exaggerated or added to in the very least.)

She began with the old formula. "You won't know me, etc., but I'm
so-and-so." She did not pause for breath, but went straight ahead. "It's
the second time I've been to call on you," she said, in an aggrieved
voice. "I came three weeks ago when you were at ---- Hospital. You had
_just_ had an operation and were coming round, and would you believe it,
though I had come _all_ the way from West Kensington, they wouldn't let
me come up and see you--positively _rude_ the boy was at the door." (I
uttered a wordless prayer for Tommy!)

"It was very kind of you," I murmured, "but I hardly think you would
have liked to see me just then; I wasn't looking my best. Chloroform has
become one of my _betes noires_." "Oh, I shouldn't have minded," said
the lady; "I thought it was so inconsiderate of them not to let me up.
So sad for you, you lost your _foot_," she chattered on, eyeing the
cradle with interest. I winked at my cousin, a low habit but excusable
on occasions. We did not enlighten her it was more than the foot. Then I
was put through the usual inquisition, except that it was if possible a
little more realistic than usual. "Did it bleed?" she asked with gusto.
I began to enjoy myself (one gets hardened in time). "Fountains," I
replied, "the ground is still discoloured, and though they have dug it
over several times it's no good--it's like Rizzio's blood at Holyrood,
the stain simply won't go away!" My cousin hastily sneezed. "How very
curious," said the lady, "so interesting to hear all these details
_first_ hand! Young man," and she fixed Eric with her lorgnettes, "have
_you_ been wounded--I see _no_ stripe on your arm?" and she eyed him
severely. Now E. has always had a bit of a stammer, but at times it
becomes markedly worse. We were both enjoying ourselves tremendously:
"N-n-n-no," he replied, "s-s-s-shell s-s-s-shock!"

"Dear me, however did _that_ happen?" she asked. "I w-w-was b-b-b-blown
i-i-i-into t-t-t-the air," he replied, smiling sweetly.

"Ho