oor little
corner and war seems better understood. There is hardly a thing which is
not thought of and done for the sick and wounded, and I should say a
grievance was impossible.

I still lodge at the Villa Joos, and am beginning to enjoy a study of
middle-class provincial life. The ladies do all the house-work. We have
breakfast (a bite) in the kitchen at 8.30 a.m., then I go to make soup,
and when I come back after lunch for a rest, "the family" are dressed
and sitting round a stove, and this they continue to do till a meal has
to be prepared. There is one lamp and one table, and one stove, and
unless papa plays the pianola there is nothing to do but talk. No one
reads, and only one woman does a little embroidery, while the small
girl of the party cuts out scraps from a fashion paper.

The poor convoy! it is becoming very squabbly and tiresome, and there is
a good deal of "talking over," which is one of the weakest sides of
"communal life." It is petty and ridiculous to quarrel when Death is so
near, and things are so big and often so tragic. Yet human nature has
strict limitations. Mr. Ramsay MacDonald came out from the committee to
see what all the complaints were about. So there were strange
interviews, in store-rooms, etc. (no one has a place to call their
own!), and everyone "explained" and "gave evidence" and tried to "put
matters straight."

It rains every day. This may be a "providence," as the floods are
keeping the Germans away. The sound of constant rain on the window-panes
is a little melancholy. Let us pray that in singleness and cheerfulness
of heart we may do our little bit of work.

[Page Heading: EXPEDITION TO DUNKIRK]

_23 December._--Yesterday I motored into Dunkirk, and did a lot of
shopping. By accident our motor-car went back to Furnes without me, and
there was not a bed to be had in Dunkirk! After many vicissitudes I met
Captain Whiting, who gave up his room in his own house to me, and slept
at the club. I was in clover for once, and nearly wept when I found my
boots brushed and hot water at my door. It was so like home again.

I was leaving the station to-day when shelling began again. One shell
dropped not far behind the bridge, which I had just crossed, and
wrecked a house. Another fell into a boat on the canal and wounded the
occupants badly. I went to tell the Belgian Sisters not to go down to
the station, and I lunched at their house, and then went home till the
evening work began.