once more she proved that she was a woman
of energy and decision. Without any formalities she stepped into her
husband's practice as a matter of course. On the second day of the war
she ordered out his runabout and called on every patient on his
immediate list, except those that would expect attention in his office
during the usual hours of consultation.

Her success was immediate. She lost none of her husband's patients and
gained many more, for every doctor of military age had been called
out. Of course her record in the hospitals was well known, not only to
the profession but to many of Dr. Pertat's patients. Her income, in
spite of the war, is larger than it ever was before.

She told me that when the war was over she should resign in her
husband's favor as far as her general practice was concerned, but
should have a private practice of her own, specializing in skin
diseases and facial blemishes. She could never be idle again, and if
it had not been for the brooding shadow of war and her constant
anxiety for her husband, she should look back upon those two years of
hard medical practice and usefulness as the most satisfactory of her
life.

She is still a young woman, with vivid yellow hair elaborately
dressed, and it was evident that she had none of the classic
professional woman's scorn of raiment. Her apartment is full of old
carved furniture and objets d'art, for she had always been a
collector. Her most conspicuous treasure is a rare and valuable
Russian censer of chased silver. This was on the Germans' list of
valuables when they were sure of entering Paris in September, 1914.
Through their spies they knew the location of every work of art in the
most artistic city in the world.

Madame Pertat is one of the twenty-five women doctors in Paris. All
are flourishing. When the doctors return for leave of absence
etiquette forbids them to visit their old patients while their
brothers are still at the Front; and the same rule applies to doctors
who are stationed in Paris but are in Government service. The women
are having a magnificent inning, and whether they will be as
magnanimous as Madame Pertat and take a back seat when the men return
remains to be seen. The point is, however, that they are but another
example of the advantage of technical training combined with courage
and energy.

III

On the other hand, I heard of many women who, thrown suddenly out of
work, or upon their own resources, developed