rapt, silent girl of 16, who will soon be dead
of overwork. She is not merely pretty, but beautiful, with the manners
of a princess!

I shall be glad to get away from my too kind billeters; every night I
have to sit and _causer_ before going to bed, and Ma-billeter watches me
in and out of bed, and tells me my nightgown is _tres pratique_, and
just like the officers Anglais have. But she calls me with a lovely cup
of coffee in the morning. They've been so kind that I dread telling them
I've got to go.

An officer was brought in during the night with a compound-fractured
arm. He stuck a very painful dressing like a brick to-day, and said to
me afterwards, "I've got three kids at home; they'll be awfully bucked
over this!" He had said it was "nothing to write home about."

Another, who is chaffing everybody all day long, was awfully impressed
because a man in his company--I mean platoon--who had half his leg blown
off, said when they came to pick him up, "Never mind me--take so-and-so
first"--"just like those chaps you read of in books, you know." It was
decided that he meant Sir Philip Sidney.

Yesterday afternoon I had a lovely time taking round chocolate Easter
eggs to our wounded in the French hospital. The sweetest, merriest
_Ma-Soeur_ took me round, and insisted on all the orderlies having one
too. They adore her, and stand up and salute when she comes into the
ward; and we had enough for the _jeunes filles_ and the grannies in the
women's ward of _blessees_. They were a huge success. Those men get very
few treats. She also showed me the Maternity Ward.

_Tuesday, April 6th_, 10 P.M.--I am writing in bed in my lovely little
room overlooking the garden, and facing some nice red roofs and both the
old Towers of the town (one dating from le temps des Espagnols) in le
Chateau, instead of in my attic in the narrow street where you heard the
tramp of the men who viennent des tranches in the night. We had a lovely
dinner, served by the fat and _tres aimable_ Marie in a small, panelled
dining-room, with old oak chairs and real silver spoons (the first I've
met since August). So don't waste any pity for the hardships of War! And
an officer with a temperature of 103 deg. explained that he'd been sleeping
for sixteen days on damp sandbags "among the dead Germans."

Nothing coming in anywhere, but when it does begin we shall get them.

The A.D.M.S. is going to arrange for us to go up with one of his motor
ambulances to